


Romancing the Literati

by youngthug (skepticalArsonist)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:09:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 65,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skepticalArsonist/pseuds/youngthug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Single father and graduate student Stannis Baratheon meets Davos Seaworth, a hard-working man struggling with illiteracy, self-redemption, and living in Flea Bottom with a teenage son. Wow. The juxtaposition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For what seemed like the thirteenth time, Stannis Baratheon made an attempt to blink the sleep from his drowsy eyes. He tried again and again to fight the overwhelming fatigue that crept up on him like a vine, but he knew in his cloudy mind that he’d need to raise a white flag pretty soon. He still had twenty minutes until his stop. That was enough for a solid ten-minute power nap, a five-minute doze, or a three-minute snooze.

... Perhaps it would be best for him not to sleep. Missing his stop would be much too inconvenient, and he had to be home on time so that he wouldn't have to pay Cressen any extra money. Punctuality is a savior for both the reputation and the wallet.

Stannis scratched lightly at the greying hairs of his chin and reached into his satchel, pulling from it a rather hefty tome. It was an older book by Stephen King, and though Stannis found the horror genre to be distastefully corny and disappointingly cliché, he considered the author a master of his trade. The skill in which the man used mere words to engage the senses was enough to send a chill running down even Stannis's spine, and even managed to send him to bed with the lamp on some nights.

Finding where he had been on the page was an easy task- however, staying awake to actually _read_ was proving itself to be a difficult feat. Gods, was he _exhausted_. Stannis eventually gave up after absentmindedly reading the same page three times. He hadn’t even noticed the man, not present a mere ten minutes ago, who now sat to his right also reading a book. He seemed to be completely engrossed in the text, and yet he only turned each page after ten minutes. Was he analyzing? Theorizing?

_"Animal Farm,"_

"... What?" The bearded man had caught Stannis glancing at him curiously.

"I'm reading _Animal Farm_ by George Orwell... Well, I don't think I need to tell you that, you seem scholarly enough... Anyway what're you reading?"

For a moment, Stannis was too dazed to answer. There was something about his... His own _aura_ that made society brand him as completely unapproachable and unsociable, and yet this man, this complete _stranger_ , was attempting to strike up a conversation out of the blue. It was strange and yet refreshing... And Stannis was in dire need of a good casual chat. His day had been more stressful than usual.

"I'm reading _The Stand_ by Stephen King... Good book. Scary, though."

"Gods, that's the longest book I've ever seen!" A muffled screech could be heard as the subway began to slow to a halt. "Ah, my stop's next... Damn..." The man closed his book and held out his... What was left of his hand. Stannis hesitated before taking it in his own and giving it a firm shake. The man had a strong grip, and his skin was dry and scratchy. He really needed lotion.

"Sorry, those are just my nubs." His eyes crinkled in a smile, and Stannis couldn't help but glance at the man's shortened fingers once again. The wounds had long healed, but the cold had made them a glaring crimson, and he couldn't help but wonder if they still hurt. "My name is Davos. Davos Seaworth. Can I expect to see you here tomorrow, um...?"

"Stannis Baratheon." He stated with a slight nod. "And no. Unfortunately, I am only in this train on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays for class." It was Thursday, so Stannis would be taking the C train to and from work until Monday. Then, he would take the C Train to work and the A Train back from grad school. He had quite the busy life, leaving him absolutely no option than to exclude the option of a social life completely. Between school, work, and being a single father, he had his hands full. Completely full.

"Well," Davos hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder. He wore a North Face over a white button-down shirt with a conservative tie and dark grey slacks. Stannis could see that he was struggling to get by in the world. Well, weren't they all? "I'll be sure to look out for you on Monday, Stannis."

"Perhaps you'll be done with that book by then, as well. I'd like to discuss it with you." The subway screeched to a halt, and people began flooding out of the car as if their life depended on it. A significantly fewer amount of travelers took their place, claiming seats so that they would not have to be plagued with the burden of standing upright for a few minutes.

"I doubt it, really, but anyway, I really hope to meet you again!" And with that the man was gone, leaving Stannis feeling a bit less empty and a lot less exhausted. His stop was next, so he placed his book back into his already unwieldy satchel and rested the back of his head against the cool window of the car.

Their conversation has been brief and hasty, but despite that, Stannis found himself looking forward to the next week. History was where his passion lay, but he more often than not found peace in literature, both historic or completely fiction. Having somebody to talk to about what he loved would surely take the edge off of the Valyrian steel blade that was his busy life.

On the way back to his home, Stannis picked up a small slice of cake from a small YiTish bakery for Shireen and some sort of meat bun for himself. He would be back a little bit late, but he felt that his daughter should be rewarded occasionally for being such a top-notch student. Plus, he was in good spirits for the first time in what felt like ages.

Stannis's home was a large estate by the sea that would have been luxurious if Stannis had been willing to invest more time and money into it. Though he was reluctant to admit it, his ability to purchase such a fine home was all thanks to his older brother, Robert. There was plenty of bad blood among all three Baratheon brothers, but despite their dislike for one another, they still looked out for each other like siblings often did. It was what they had been taught as young children.

When Robert had landed himself a secure spot in the higher offices of the Westerosi government, he had rewarded his brothers with grand homes. Stannis resided on Dragonstone thanks to his older brother, who most likely did it for public appeals, while his younger brother Renly lived in the Stormlands, somehow managing to balance his life as an undergraduate student and the host of too many lavish parties. Robert had also promised Renly the title of CEO of his successful company once he graduated so that he could fully immerse himself into the world of politics. This had left Stannis feeling salty for years, but he figured he'd be thankful that Robert had even reached out to him in the first place. Plus, he was already involved in a scandal involving his wife, Cersei, which Stannis considered satisfactory.

When Stannis stepped into the warm foyer of his home, he was greeted by the enticing aroma of fresh baked goods wafting from the nearby kitchen. He felt that Shireen was responsible enough to bake from time to time as long as either he or Cressen was present, and her desserts were extremely delicious more often than not.

"Picked a bad day to stop at the bakery..." Stannis muttered to himself as he removed his jacket and put it onto the rack near the door. He made his way into the kitchen and was pleased to see his daughter busy with homework while Cressen sat next to her, correcting and explaining her wrong answers.

Before Stannis could even muster up a greeting for the two, Cressen looked up, smiled, and gave him a pleasant _hello_. Shireen, on the other hand, sprang up from the table and rushed to fling her arms around her father. Stannis smiled and stroked her soft dark hair.

"I made cookies!" The girl practically sang as she grabbed some up from the plate and shoved them into Stannis's face. "Dr. Cressen taught me how to make them so that they're not flat."

"Is that so," Stannis took a cookie and held it between his lips while he reached into his wallet and produced Cressen's 50 dragons for that night. He included another 5 dragon note for being a half hour late. He took the cookie out of his mouth. "Thank you very much, Dr. Cressen."

"Always a pleasure. Good night, Stannis." After the old man had left, Stannis produced the YiTish goods from his satchel. The excited expression on Shireen's face warmed his heart a little. She was such an enthusiastic and positive girl, and her smile was enough to get someone to forget about the greyscale on her face. It was a bit saddening to have to be the bearer of bad news.

"You got us sweets?" The girl tried to pry the little brown bag from Stannis's grip, but he kept his grip firm until her expression dropped and she withdrew, defeated.

"YiTish. But you baked cookies, Shireen."

"Yes but... You could have called and said that you were going to bring home dessert!"

"That would have ruined the surprise."

"Oh, I know, Dad. They may taste even better tomorrow, anyway." Shireen smiled and made her way back to the kitchen counter, humming a familiar tune that Stannis couldn't quite name.

"What did Dr. Cressen make for dinner?"

"Pork chops and a salad." Stannis nodded with approval.

"Are you hungry, Dad? We left your dinner in the fridge."  Stannis sighed as he placed the brown paper bag on top of the refrigerator.

"No. I have an essay to do for my High Valyrian language and literature class."

"Do you have to type it in High Valyrian?"

"Yes. The _whole_ thing."

"Wow! Can you teach me High Valyrian some day? This summer, maybe?"

Stannis thought for a moment. She would definitely pick up on it very quickly.

"We'll see. Perhaps."

"Thank you, Dad." A pause. "I have an essay to write for school, too. Can we write together? Please?"

"... Fine. Bring the plate of cookies into the living room, and I'll bring some milk for both of us." Because this is what fathers and daughters did together. They wrote essays.

\--

Davos practically threw himself onto his ancient and faded couch. He was angry. He was so goddamned _tired_. Life was hard, and painful, and just unfair.

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He had payed too much money just to look good for this interview, but after what had happened, he felt that it had not been worth it. His third interview. His _third_ interview, and he had botched it just as badly as the other two.

He looked forlornly around his tiny studio apartment. The natural tendencies of men and teenage boys alongside the lack of female presence rendered it quite messy. Though there was clothing littered about the space, Davos tried his best to keep the place clean. However, clean or not, the cockroaches continued their ceaseless campaign, claiming the apartment as their shitty little Eighth Kingdom. Davos often spent a good sum of his budget on _Ziploc_ bags just to protect his food items from the little bastards.

He used his left hand- the good hand, to pull his cell phone from his pocket and tap the voice command option. Texting was never an option for him. He could only call.

"Call Salladhor Saan." He spoke clearly into the speaker of the phone, and waited for his friend to pick up. He knew that he would. Sal never missed a call from a friend.

Sal picked up after only two rings.

"Davos! How did it go?" The thick Lyseni accent comforted him quite a bit more than he had expected. He decided to disregard the absence of a greeting.

"Oh, Sal..."

"Again, Davos? You're a smart man, I don't understand why you haven't had a successful interview yet. What are you doing?"

"They... I always try to avert the question, but they always end up finding out that I can't read. They won't hire me, I'm sure of it. I want to apply to more jobs, but I don't think I can put Dev through any more of this. He's only fourteen, Sal! What kind of father am I?"

"You're trying your best, Davos. Besides, there are plenty of men who would give you a great job if _you_ give them a good job every so often."

"Please, Sal, I'm not in the mood..."

"I'm being honest. There are a lot of kind men who would give you a nice, secure job in exchange for the occasional cock-sucking."

"Sal, let's be serious, now."

"Well, you can also return to smuggling. You're one of the best sailors in Westeros, and your plans never failed!"

"Salla, you know that I will never smuggle again. It cost me everything: my wife, my home... And Dev is a teenager now. I have to be there for him. I _have_ to be there for him, or he'll grow up to be like me, or worse. I..." Dav paused and took a deep breath. "I wouldn't be able to take it, if I lost him, too..."

"Alright, man. I get it. However, if you _do_ change your mind-"

"Goodbye, Sal." Davos tapped the end call button and checked the time. Devan would be home soon, and he had to get dinner started. He thought about the man on the subway, and looked at the backpack on the floor containing his book. Could he finish it by Monday?

"Baratheon..." He murmured quietly to himself. "Baratheon... Baratheon..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey... wow.... this is my first fic for this fandom as well as the first serious fic I've gone through with in a couple of years! i'm actually a little proud of myself! anyway, stay tuned for more cool stav adventures ;0  
> ALSO shoutout to Shoujo for proofreading this !


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes go on a lowkey date and Davos pours his heart out to a total stranger.

The following Monday, Stannis spent his whole day thinking about boarding the C train and talking to Davos. As if the spiteful universe detested his eagerness and outright excitement, time itself seemed to slow down. Walking to the station took him a little too long. The subway was just a little too late. People leaving the car took just a little bit too long. Finding a seat was a little more difficult than usual.

When Stannis had finally settled down, he took out a hard copy of his analytical essay. Proofreading in the Common Tongue was one thing. It was easy, but required much more emphasis on detail. The goal was to improve and go above and beyond with his writing. Proofreading in High Valyrian, however, was a completely different, not to mention a much more difficult task. He had to check for basic grammar and spelling, use eloquent language, and frequently check outside references for accuracy. It took every inch of his attention.

After fifteen minutes, he decided to lean back and take a break. No doubt Davos would be boarding soon...

 _Oh, shit_... Stannis began to grind his teeth. He hadn't been paying much attention, admittedly, but he was sure that he had boarded a different car than he had the previous Monday. A pang of mild anxiety surged through Stannis's body, and he cursed under his breath, damning his lack of common sense.

"Shit... Shit... _Shit_..." The man sitting to his left side-eyed him warily. All Stannis would do was wait and hope. He had looked forward to this day all weekend. Having someone to talk to about something he genuinely loved was a lot like... Like what Stannis had imagined falling in love felt like, but in a completely different sense. Sure, they had spoken for a solid three minutes, but he felt that rare feeling he got when he met a person that he instinctively trusted. The same relaxed feeling that had washed over him when he had first met Melisandre... Or Selyse...

Another ten minutes went by, and there was no sign of Davos. He waited. Only three stops remained until his own. He contemplated for a few minutes and decided there to gather his belongings and stand near the subway's doors. If Davos was here today, he could still catch him outside. He'd need to call Cressen and say that he was going to be late.

Stannis straightened his back and held on to a pole while the subway lurched to a stop. The doors opened, cold air rushing in as people flooded onto the platform. Stannis managed to find a spot where he could stand and look out for Davos. He scanned the crowd with a sharp eye, trying to pick out the man's greying hair. An entire minute passed, and Stannis saw no sign of him. He glanced at his watch, frowning at the time displayed. Gods, he hoped he hadn't screwed up.

The traffic dwindled down significantly after the subway departed. Stannis decided then to give up and go home. Perhaps fate wanted him to be forever friendless. He took his phone out and browsed his contacts for Cressen's number. He had two numbers listed for his cell number, but he wasn't sure which one was...

"Stannis?" He looked up from his phone and saw Davos, dressed in the same North Face, jeans, and tattered Timberlands. "Is that really you?"

"Hello, Davos." Stannis said, stoically as ever.

"You didn't get off the train just to see me, did you?"

"I did. I didn't realize I'd gotten onto a different car then on Thursday. Sorry."

"No need for that. Do you have to be somewhere right now?"

"No, you?"

"Well..." Davos used his left hand to take his phone out of his pocket and check the time. "I only have a bit of time before my train leaves for King's Landing, but I can always catch another one. We could chat over dinner. Get to know each other a little better." He smiled, and Stannis couldn't help but smile in return.

Davos said that he knew a decent little restaurant run by some friendly Dornish folk. The two exited the platform and made their way into the mild winter air of southern Westeros.

"You know, when you told me your name, I knew it sounded familiar. Are you related to Robert Baratheon?"

"Unfortunately. He's my idiot older brother, and I have no respect for him." Davos grinned again, though Stannis hadn't thought that his comment was funny in the least.

"Is he really that bad? He's scandalous for sure, but he doesn't seem quite as wretched as those other politicians."

"Oh, he is..." A change of subject was in order. "I don't like talking about him, though. Did you finish _Animal Farm?_ "

"No, I haven't…” A pause. “I've been busy, and it just takes so _long_ , you know?"

"I noticed that you're a very... Careful reader? You must analyse the text as you go - very smart." Just then, Davos stopped walking. Stannis turned to him, and Davos gestured for him to move closer to the wall to avoid disrupting the flow of commuters. He began to subconsciously grind his teeth.

"What's the matter?" He saw Davos glance nervously to the side before he looked Stannis in the eyes.

"Stannis I... Can't read. I'm sorry. I've been trying my best for years, but it's so hard..." He allowed himself to trail off, but when Stannis didn’t respond Davos seemed to decide to shut up and let the information sink in. **  
**

"Davos," Stannis began slowly. "Why don't we go to this restaurant... Discuss this. It's cold as a bitch out here."

Davos led in silence, and Stannis called Cressen to ask if he could stay late. Being retired, he replied that he most certainly could, though he shouldn't bet on him being awake by the time he returned. Stannis thanked him and hung up the phone. The restaurant was only a block away, and Davos held the door open for Stannis when they arrived.

Once seated, Stannis scanned the menu while Davos studied his face carefully.

"How do you order food when you go out?" Stannis asked as he looked at the entrées. He wasn't a huge fan of food from Dorne. It was much too spicy for him to thoroughly enjoy, and those nights always ended with him wreaking major havoc on the shitter.

"Well, except to go to work, I almost never leave the house without my son. He reads me the menu, and I pick whatever sounds good."

"No wife?"

"... No."  
  
"Looks like we're in the same boat..." Stannis looked up at him. "What do you do when you order alone?"

"I usually ask the waiter about their favorite dish, or what the most popular dish is."

"Hm. Smart." Just then, the waitress, arrived, smiling brightly and standing almost stiffly straight. She was a beautiful, buxom young woman with curly dark hair and clear brown skin. Her natural beauty was skillfully complemented by metallic brown mascara and sharply winged eyeliner. Something about her resting face made her look dangerous. Stannis could tell that she probably prided in it.

"Hello, I'm Arianne and I'll be serving you this evening! Can I start you off with drinks? I'm sure you'll need them." She gave a coy smile, and Davos smiled back.

"Hello, Arianne."

"Hello Mr. Seaworth. Not here with Devan tonight?"

"No, no. Dev's playing basketball right now, I believe. This is Stannis, by the way." Stannis nodded and gave a forced smile.  
  
"Anyway, do you two still need a minute to order? I'll bring over some drinks in the meantime. What'll you two be having?"

  
"Just water." Stannis said, and Davos asked for the same. Arianne strode off gracefully, and Stannis was finally able to look Davos fully in the eyes. They were a murky brown that suited his face quite well. Davos sighed and gave another weak grin.

"So, you know her?" Stannis rested his elbow on the table, holding his chin up with his fist.

"Yeah. I come here from time to time with my son, Devan. He's a good kid. I'm pretty sure he had a crush on that girl at some point, but I guess the reality of their age gap set in and he dropped it. He's only fourteen, but I think he was twelve back then." The bearded man laughed breathily and shook his head. Stannis found it refreshing that he smiled so much.

"But enough of that." He continued, his expression melting into something crushingly melancholy. "Why don't I tell you about... My situation, I guess." Stannis's eyebrows furrowed.

"Davos, why would you apologize for being illiterate? I understand that not everyone grows up under the same circumstances." He did his best to sound reassuring. He didn't want to make Davos uncomfortable. It would be just as uncomfortable for him.

"It's just... Stannis, I can tell that you're a very smart man. You read big books, you dress like a scholar, you even _sound_ educated, dammit. I didn't want you to lose respect for me. Men like you usually laugh in my face for being unable to read..."

"I wouldn't call that very smart, to be frank. You know, Oscar Wilde once said that 'when you assume, you make an ass out of u and me'. Just because a man is lacking in a skill does not mean that he's complete _moron_. Do you agree?"

"I do. Good quote, by the way."

"Good. So how bad is it, exactly? How much can you read and write?"

Davos contemplated for a moment, tapping his shortened index finger against the side of a bottle of Dornish Fire Sauce.

"Let's see... I started teaching myself to read about two years ago. It was pretty inconsistent, and I didn't retain much information. My son tried to help me, but he was in seventh grade, for fuck's sake! He had his own studies to focus on. He still helps me occasionally, and at this point I can write my name, the numbers, and some basic vocabulary. I also have a signature. As for reading, I... Know the letters, but... Putting them together and learning their sounds is still difficult for me. The Common Tongue baffles me sometimes!"

"I see..." The conversation stopped as Arianne brought over their water. The two ordered and were alone again after she left with their menus.

"How do you get by?" Stannis asked again, removing the straw out of his water and putting it to the side. He sipped the liquid and nearly winced at the poor quality of the city's tap water. He drank it anyway.

Davos was squeezing a lemon wedge into his water. "My son. He writes everything out for me - my job applications, my bank transactions, my emails. I can only imagine how annoyed he is by now, but he never complains. I'm trying to learn on my own - he's a freshman in high school now, so I can't keep putting this on him. Has his own responsibilities, and I don't want to jeopardize his education. I want him to be successful, and I want him to live a happy life and raise a happy family.” He sighed. “It's just so difficult..."

Stannis nodded slowly, gazing out of the window at the dark street illuminated by passing cars and lamps. A light drizzle had begun to fall. Not a common sight, even for a Southern winter. Stannis was listening intently to what Davos had to say, but knew his own words would be wasted, so Davos went on.

"I'm sorry for dropping this all on you after we've just met but... It's such a relief to get this off my chest, and to have someone willing to _listen_ to me. You have no idea how grateful I am, Stannis. You really are a kind man."

Stannis couldn't help but snort. _Him? Kind?_ People had quicker called tortured bulls friendly.

"You think I'm kind? I appreciate the sentiment, Davos, but try convincing my brothers and co-workers otherwise. I'm something short of a monster, in their eyes."

"But are you really?"

Stannis thought for a moment, taking another sip of his tap water.

"Not entirely."

\--

Their meal had been enjoyable. Stannis could feel the pepper working its magic on his digestive system, and his mouth still felt aflame, but just chatting over food with another person was enough to take his mind off that little despair.

It was just past 9PM, and Stannis was eager to return home and study. His essay had to be perfect, and he would not sleep until it was just that.

He stood outside and waited for Davos while he used the restroom. A misting rain dampened his hair and forehead. His jacket had no hood, regrettably.

Finally, the short man emerged from the restaurant, smiling when he saw Stannis staring out at the town around them. He draped part of his coat over his bag in fear of his laptop getting wet.

"You didn't have to wait out here for me, you know."

"I wanted to. Thank you for the meal. It was delicious." Then quickly, Stannis added, "Sorry about the bill..."

After they had finished their dinner, they had had a minor dispute over who was to pay the bill. Davos, who had argued that it was his idea to bring him here, thought that it would only be fair if he paid. Stannis, however, insisted that he pay the bill. He had felt bad for Davos, and wanted to save him a bit of money that he could use on something he needed. In the end, Stannis paid the sum and Davos was left to take it like a man.

"It's no problem, really. I'm sorry for being so stubborn... Oh, and one more thing."

"What?"

"I know it's a lot to ask since you're busy, but... Do you think you could tutor me? I could pay you to help me learn to read. It'd be a worthwhile investment."  
  
Stannis pondered the thought for a moment. Him, a tutor? He wasn't sure if he had the patience to educate anyone but his daughter. However, he didn't want to be the one to cost this man his aspirations...

"How many days a week are you thinking?"

"Any days that work for you will work for me. And I could come to your place, or we could meet each other halfway. Devan lets himself into the house after school, and Flea Bottom isn't exactly the safest place at night..."

"Fine, that'll do. Will Fridays and Saturdays at my place work for you?"

"Of course! Thank you so much, Stannis. You don't know how happy I am right now.” He gave a warm smile. Thank you." He held his mauled hand out and Stannis took it in a firm shake. "I promise I won't let you down."

"I know you won't." Stannis allowed himself a brief smile.

 **  
** At the subway station, the two exchanged contact information and went their separate ways, both feeling like they had accomplished something significant. And perhaps they had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, a big girthy THANK YOU to shoujo for proofing this for me. man you got such a good username.  
> this is probably the fastest I've updated a fic in my entire life! it feels pretty nice!  
> also a side note: pity my Davos, he works so hard.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I call this: Dav's epiphany. Please enjoy.

Davos Seaworth considered himself quite the lucky man. He had a job, and despite it being physically (and emotionally, to some extent) taxing, he was grateful to have landed it in the first place. The average work day for him included sealing boxes, moving boxes, and his favorite part, stacking boxes. His co-workers were his least favorite aspect of his occupation besides humiliatingly low pay and pitiful workers' compensation.  
  
Sandor Clegane, a bitter man with a horribly burned face, was constantly watching to see if any of the "imbeciles" under his "command" fucked up their jobs so that he could have a reason to mouth them off. However, none of the people working in the warehouse of the Antlers Amazon.com distribution faclity had the right to outright criticize the man's excessive monitoring since he was by far the hardest worker in the entire facility.

Sandor, nicknamed “The Hound” by his co-workers, was the alpha of this pack of wage-workers and, thus, had the right to occasionally verbally abuse his subordinates. Davos  swore that the man had some sort of complex that rendered him superior to the weak and vastly inferior to those with power. It was pathetic, and yet the man ordered him around like a slave.  
  
That day, Davos was in particularly good humor. He felt like he had so much to look forward to in life: he could learn to read, learn to write, get a better job that didn't work him half to death, start up his own business- the possibilities were nearly goddamn endless! Nothing, not even verbal abuse from Sandor Shitstain Clegane, could bring him down.

Of course, at that moment, Davos bent to pick up a particularly heavy box, and while in his entranced state, too much weight was put on the side with his shortened fingers. The box dropped with a heavy _thud_ , and The Hound was on his ass faster than he could pick the damned thing up again.

"Seaworth!" He barked, an angry red flaring across the metallic burns on his skin. "Damn cripple, if you go dropping any more boxes around here, the damage costs will be coming out of _your_ fucking paycheck, you hear me?"

Davos rolled his eyes. "Fuck off, I've got it..." Sandor left him alone then, carrying three perfectly balanced boxes with him.

"Goddamn show off..."

While Davos labored the day away, he couldn't take his mind off of the seemingly detached man he had met on the subway. Stannis, who had kindly offered to pay for their dinner. Stannis, who had offered time out of his busy schedule to educate him. Stannis, who had listened to him when he was complaining about his situation. Stannis, with his tall, strong build, and eloquent mannerisms... Stannis, with his bright blue eyes… The smoulder...

Oh...

Davos decided to take his lunch break just then. He decided to dine at a fast food restaurant down the street, which was surprisingly empty, even for a Thursday afternoon. As he held a chicken sandwich in one hand, he used his free good hand to pull up the voice command on his phone.

"Call Salladhor Saan," he said quietly, not wanting to attract unneeded attention to himself. It took Sal a little longer than usual to pick up his phone. Davos hoped to the gods that he wasn't out at sea on a smuggling job, or sleeping with some girl.

"Hello...?" He sounded haggard and mildly irritated.

"Sal? Are you alright?"

"Oh, it's you, Dav... I'm fine, it's just that the hangover gods are killing me at the moment..."

"Hangover? It's _Thursday_ , Sal. Don't tell me you went clubbing last night."

"I did, and I don't regret it. Don't take pity on me, Davos."

"I never did."

"Dav, keep your voice down, you're killing me here... Why did you call me?"

"Just to talk to my good friend Salladhor Saan."

"I'm going to hang up on you, vomit, and go to sleep."

"Alright, alright. You know that guy I was talking about?"

"... God, you're killing me with this thinking... Stan? The tall one?"

"Yes. Stannis. The tall one, Sal. I think I'm interested in him. Romantically."

"You think you're interested in him? Romantically?"

"Sal, shut up, you're killing me. You do realize that when a grown-ass man calls another grown-ass man for romantic advice it means that it's serious."

"Ok, Dav, what's so serious about it? Afraid he'll take you for a gold digger? Afraid he won't let you suck him off for money?"

"I'm hanging up the phone."

"Wait! _Fuck_... My goddamn head... God, I feel like I've been flung off of the side of a building... Dav, you can't leave without your share of Salladvice, now, can you?" Davos was getting sick of this. Why had he even bothered? Salladhor knew nothing about romance. All he did was get drunk and party and sleep around. He wouldn't know a damn thing about how Davos was feeling.

"Sal, listen to me. I feel... Almost as if I'm betraying him- Stannis. This man invited a stranger into his home to be taught, and nothing more. He has a daughter, Sal. He really trusts me, so what am I supposed to do, bust a move?"

"Well,"

"Fuck right off, Sal."

"I don't know what to say, Dav! Take it slow, for God's sake! My fucking head hurts, man! You're killing me!" Davos couldn't suppress the smile that crept up on his face.

"What the hell do you know about taking it slow?"

"Nothing. But I'm telling you to do it, anyway. God, Davos, you sound like a teenage girl. This whole conversation was pathetic. You're killing me here."

"Whatever. We'll hang out soon, alright? I have to get back to work, and my chicken sandwich is cold now. You're killing me, Salla."

"I'll see you around, brother. Oh, and by the way, tell me how big his cock is, alright?"

Davos hung his phone up and slipped it into the pocket of his coat. His sandwich was actually moderately cold, and his fries were leaning a bit on the soggy side. There was nothing sadder than soggy fries. Davos ate everything despite all that, and was back at his job in under twenty minutes. His head was buzzing, and though his body was focused on his work, his mind was fixed on Friday night. He would ride the train and go home with Stannis. He would get to spend time with the man.

Davos considered that lucky enough.

\--

Stannis considered himself a very lucky man. He had a wonderful daughter who was as smart as she was kind. His older brother had purchased an _estate_ for him, which he was forever grateful for. However, the top reason he considered himself lucky was because he was one of the very few people in the world who enjoyed their job.

Yes, Stannis loved his job. It was stressful, meticulous work, and he was surrounded by idiots almost all hours of the day, but he could at least say that his job perfectly reflected his interests. At the end of the day, he considered himself somewhat happy, though he seldom let it show.

He, as the managing editor of the _Westerosi Educational Resource Association's_ history division, spent his time looking at drafts for textbooks, checking for historical accuracy and most importantly, spelling and grammatical errors. He was quite the stickler for grammar, and it was often a pain in the ass for his subordinates. Though some viewed his perfectionism as a drawback, Stannis thought it to be quite an advantage, considering the sublime quality of their finished products.

His job was a rather tough one, and admittedly, he wouldn't be able to accomplish all he did without aid from his trusty assistant managing editor, Samwell Tarly. Sam had started out as a mere intern for the company, but after Stannis had taken a liking to his reading and editing abilities, he encouraged the boy to apply for a full time job. He really needed help with his lengthy tasks, anyway.

Sam was a fat, friendly 20-year-old student who somehow managed to balance college and a full time job while remaining enthusiastic. Though the boy's request to be able to leave the workplace for his classes was granted, Stannis still found it impressive that he had the energy to focus on both engagements. Sam had a passion for history and reading in general, like Stannis himself.

When Sam had first started the job, his fear of Stannis was plain as day. He quite literally flinched whenever the man had spoken directly to him. Now, one year later, Sam and Stannis were accustomed to each others' presence. Though they seldom spoke to each other about matters other than business, their discussions regarding the textbooks always went well. Sam learned a lot from Stannis, and from time to time, Stannis learned something from Sam.

"Mr. Baratheon. Mr. Baratheon. Um, _Mr. Baratheon_." Only then did Stannis realize he was being called on.

"Samwell, I said to call me Stannis."

"It doesn't seem right... Anyway, I, um, said that you can just call me Sam. Everyone does, anyway."

"I'm not a big fan of nicknames... Damn, is it this late already?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Baratheon! I was going to let you know that the work day ended twenty minutes ago. Should I leave you alone, or finish your segment for today?"

Stannis looked over the draft of the paragraph he was editing. It was a middle school textbook, so the content wasn't too dense, and the subject was the Andals, which Stannis found the most interesting.

"No, Samwell. You go on and study. I'm going to stay here for another hour or so. Is anyone still here?"

"Um, no... At least I don't think so... I thought I saw someone in the computer lab working on designs. I don't know if they've left yet."

"Go check, and if they're still there, tell them to get out so that the lab can be locked up. Then you can go home or back to college or whatever."

"Alright."

After the boy left, Stannis sighed and turned back to his work. He would definitely be at work for another two hours, but the project he indented on working on was not for the company. He had planned to spend some time working on some exercises and comprehension quizzes to test and determine Davos's reading ability. He wanted to be thorough so that the results of the tutoring sessions would be success. He wanted Davos to have an opportunity at a better future. Plus, this sort of thing would look excellent on his resume.

Stannis easily could have done all of this at home, especially since he hadn't seen much of Shireen that week due to extra working as well as staying behind in Maidenpool for grocery shopping.

As predicted, it took Stannis about two hours to complete his project. The finished result was a neat stack of stapled packets and printouts. He easily could have found some online videos for the lessons, but he thought that that would destroy the purpose of the one-on-one session as well as do a poor job in reinforcing the information given. Stannis believed he could do a better job than any online tutorial.

After a final proofing and printing, Stannis gathered his belongings and exited the building. He didn't have much to do for school that night, so he stopped to pick up a movie to watch with his daughter. Like most young girls, she had a weakness for princess movies. In fact, Shireen's love for princess movies was deep-seated in her soul, and Stannis believed that it was their Royal family history that kindled the flame of her passion of castles and princes and queens.

While waiting for the subway at the station, Stannis dialed his home number and asked Cressen to put Shireen on the phone. She was ecstatic to hear from her father after not seeing him all day.

"Shireen, are you done with your homework yet?"

"I didn't have any. When are you coming home?"

"Soon. I'll be home in about an hour. I got a movie for us to watch."

"But dad, it's a school night! What movie?"

"Ummm... Hold on..." Stannis searched his bag and quickly glanced at the movie title. " _Brave_... Have you seen that one?"

" _Really?_ I love that movie so much! Thank you Dad!"

"Mhm. My train is coming in right now. I'll see you soon. Love you."

"I love you too."

\--

Devan was already home when Davos arrived from work. He was so immersed in his cell phone and tray of oven fries he almost didn't notice his father come through the door.

"Hey, Dev. How was school?" Davos asked as he made his way to the couch, grabbing a handful of the still warm waffle fries in the meantime.

"Good," the boy replied - the same response all children and teenagers gave when parents asked about their education.

"Who're you texting?"

"This girl I met today. Sansa Stark."

"Stark? Like from Winterfell?"

"Yeah. She goes to a boarding school down here in King's Landing, apparently. Her school visited mine for this big event, and I met her there. I kinda took her for a snob but she's pretty nice."

"I see. My son, the ladies man." Davos smiled and ruffled Devan's dark hair and got up to change into his lounging clothes.

"Dad, we're barely friends. Besides, she's seeing someone right now."

Davos smiled to himself as he dressed in a t-shirt and sweat pants. One perk to living in an apartment was that during the long Westerosi winters, it was always toasty. The same perk served as a significant drawback during the summers. The last summer had lasted an astounding six  years, and Davos and his son had seldom stayed home during the day in fear of roasting in the sweltering heat. Even with all three of their fans turned on, the heat was unbearable. Davos was almost grateful for the constant cool of winter.

"Dev, you remember I won't be home until late tomorrow night, right?"

"Yeah. I'll remember to lock the door, Dad."

"Alright, good. Do you want me to make you dinner for tomorrow, or would you prefer to order something? Wait, I forgot. You're a teenager. I'll leave you some money to order some food. Only places that deliver. Do you hear me Devan? Make sure to ask them if they do."

"Yes, Dad. I won't fu- screw up like last time."

"Good."

Davos loved Devan. He was lucky to have raised a trustworthy son who listened to him no matter what. If only the other ones had... Davos sighed and looked through the freezer, searching for dinner ideas. However, no matter how hard he tried to push the thought out of his mind, he couldn't stop thinking about tomorrow night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to put Sam in this because I LOVE MY ROUND SON! also i promise things will get romantic soon. be patient! also thank YOU for reading and thank SHOUJO for proofing this!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davos learns the alphabet and pours his heart out to Stannis.

"When is he coming, Dad?"

"Soon, Shireen. You need to get your reading done. Go get ready for bed."

"But I want to meet him!"

"You will, I promise. Now go get ready."

"Yes, Dad."

Stannis observed the orderly setup spread across the dining room table. Everything seemed to be in place, and nothing seemed to be missing. The carefully created worksheets, his laptop, his books, they were all there. Stannis slightly nodded his head in approval.

He had had Shireen prepare a platter of baked sweets for Davos, and though they looked somewhat crude on their own, they had worked together to arrange them carefully on a plate so that they looked rather presentable. Stannis had promised that Shireen could have some when Davos arrived.

Since it was a Friday night, Stannis went to recline on the couch, and enjoy a thrilling episode of _House of Cards_ , his favorite show. He was secretly both fascinated and appalled by the dirty game that was Westerosi politics, and this show was the only program that kept him engaged. Originally, Davos was supposed to take the train to Dragonstone with him instead of switching trains as he usually did. However, an apologetic Davos had called to inform him that he had forgotten something at home, so he would be late.

Naturally, this left Stannis feeling more than a bit frustrated. He despised having to wait for people almost as much as he despised going to bed later than 10 at night. Unfortunately, both were almost always unavoidable, and with that, Stannis sat in front of his couch for another 20 minutes or so. He was nearly dozing by the time the doorbell's chime rang through the halls of his home.

When Stannis answered the door, Davos was standing in the doorway, huddled against the cold, his backpack slung casually over his lightly jacketed shoulder.

"I'm so _so_ sorry for being late, Stannis. I forgot my son's laptop at home. I hope I'm not inconveniencing you."

"Not at all." _Well, not really._ "Come in, it's very cold today."

Stannis could tell that Davos was trying hard not to look too mind-blown by the size of the estate. It was something Stannis himself was uncomfortable with talking about, since it he didn't even have to pay for his house. To be completely frank, Stannis had no idea where Robert got all that money from. Sleazy bastard...

"Only two of you living here?" Davos asked, glancing into a room with a large fireplace.

"Yes, just Shireen and me. She's very eager to meet you, but I told her to stay put until you arrived." Davos laughed, but Stannis didn't think it was very funny at all. 

The two sat side-by-side at the dining room table, and after Stannis had explained what they would be doing tonight, Shireen finally came bounding down the spiral staircase excitedly and quickly making her way into the room. In a perfect expression of the duality of Yin and Yang, Stannis frowned as Davos smiled warmly.

"Are you Mr. Seaworth?" The girl asked excitedly. Stannis caught the slight flicker of acknowledgment in Davos's eyes as he observed the girl's greyscale.

"I am." Davos held his hand out. Though Shireen did not hesitate to take the man's hand, Stannis also saw her eyes glance at his shortened fingers. "Don't mind the fingers, they don't hurt or anything like that." Shireen smiled.

"How old are you, Shireen?"

"I'm eleven. Those desserts are for you, by the way. I made them."

"Did you, now? That's amazing! You like baking?"

"Well... Sorta. Not as much as I like eating sweets! Dad says I can have them as long as I'm willing to put the work into making them."

" _Shireen,_ " Stannis cut in firmly. "I think it's time for you to go and do your reading. You can take some dessert up to your room for tonight. We have a lot of work to do. "

"But it's Friday night!"

"Fine. You can watch TV, just don't stay up too late, alright? Goodnight, Shireen."

The girl's expression dropped. Stannis didn't like doing this to her, but he had a lot of work to do with Davos, and he wanted to be finished as soon as possible.

"Night, Dad. Love you."

"Love you too."

Davos smiled and waved at Shireen before she left the room. 

\--

Davos was a man accustomed to successfully completing difficult tasks. He had been raised for such practices. However, reading in itself was extremely difficult on its own. Sure, it wasn't anything like smuggling, but in some aspects it was _worse_.

Stannis had given him in assessment to determine his reading level, and Davos couldn't tell if the look on the man's face after seeing the results registered frustration or determination. He dreaded what Stannis would say about his abilities.

"Well," Stannis began, and Davos held his breath.

"It's a bit lower than my expectations, but not a problem at all. You've got some basic words down, and your handwriting isn't _appalling_. With a lot of studying, you can have the alphabet down in a week, I guess. You seem uncomfortable with writing with your left hand. Were you right-handed?"

"Yeah. I don't write much at all, so I can learn to use my left. It's become my dominant hand by now."

"Good. Now why don't we begin the first lesson."

Throughout the duration of their tutoring session, Davos had tried hard to stay focused on the task at hand. He was eager to learn, no doubt, and he absorbed new information fairly easily. However, despite his greatest efforts, he couldn't help but steal glances at Stannis while he worked with him. The best moments were when Davos got to look into his eyes. For such a stern man, Stannis had clear, crystalline eyes. They were incredible, breathtaking, and Davos often couldn't bring himself to tear away his gaze.

In the end, Davos was told to memorize the alphabet, and the sounds associated each letter, he was also told to write every day, no matter how tired or unmotivated he felt. In addition, he would have to know the vowels by their lesson the nest day.

"What do I write about?"

"Anything you want. It's just important that you _write_ and not _type._ Writing with pencil and paper helps a lot with memorization. In fact..." Stannis glanced up at the clock on the wall. Davos looked as well. It was around 9:40.

"Why don't we..." Stannis continued, freeing a thin notebook from beneath a stack of papers. "Try writing something right now?"

"I... I don't know if I can."

"You can try, and I can help. What do you want to write about? I suggest you choose something simple."

Davos thought for a moment. He certainly thought that there were many aspects of his life that were engaging enough to write about. However, they were far from simple to describe. It would be a rather daunting task, but Davos felt he was willing to push himself to succeed.

"I'd like to write about my old job. It's not very simple, but I'd very much like to give it a shot." He decided with an easy smile.

"Sounds reasonable. What did you do?” Stannis turned to him, a whisp of curiosity in his gaze. “If you tell me about it I’ll be able to help."

"Well, Stannis.” Davos tried hard not to hesitate. He didn't want to come off as... Sketchy. “I was a smuggler."

\--

Stannis almost couldn't believe his ears. _Him? A smuggler?_

"You _smuggled_?"

"That's right. It's... A very long story. I don’t suppose you’d like to hear it?” Stannis could feel the other man's eyes observing him warily. In actuality, Stannis wasn't mistrustful as he was... _Surprised_. “Actually, never mind. It's late. I should leave soon."

Stannis ground his teeth. It _was_ getting late, and he would have liked to get to bed soon, but it was also a Friday night. He could afford to stay up a little late. He seldom got the opportunity to sit around and chat in the first place.

"Davos, you can stay if you'd like. I'd like to hear about your, um... Your life, I suppose. It sounds rather interesting. Unless you have to be home for Devan?"

"I think he'll be alright. I'll call and check in on him, though - just in case.” Davos gave him a small genuine smile, relief smoothing his features. “Thank you for letting me stay."

"It's no problem."

While Davos was talking on the phone with his son, Stannis took the time to clean up the mess on the dining room table. He stacked Davos's papers on top of his laptop and the leftovers a few feet away from them. He wondered how well he explained everything, and if the information they had gone over was sufficient for later review. The material he was using to teach Davos was ridiculously low-level, sure, but if he used the wrong teaching method he could end up baffling the guy anyway.

Davos had finished his brief conversation with his son by the time Stannis had organized his materials, so Stannis invited him into the kitchen and told him to bring the plate of treats Shireen had made for him if he liked. They hadn't touched any of the desserts yet.

Stannis scanned the fridge for anything that wasn’t water and the occasional apple juice for Shireen, and Stannis found himself often faced with childish disappointment when the girl had friends over - or when Stannis's brothers payed a visit. Not that they did often.

"Want anything to drink?" He asked, still perusing the fridge for _anything_ , really.

"Yes, thank you. Got any beer?"

"Let me see..." Stannis didn't like alcohol, so it was considered a rare commodity within the walls of his home. If he found any, it would truly be a blessing from the gods of social gatherings.

Finally, in the shallow depths of his refrigerator, Stannis found a single bottle of (probably old) beer as well as an unopened bottle of Sangria he had gotten as a gift some time back.

"Lucky for you, I just so happen to have a bottle of beer _and_ some Sangria. Would you like some of both? I don't drink, so I don't mind if you finish them up." Davos grinned, and Stannis responded with a curt smile.

"You plan on getting me drunk?"

"That's not within my control, you know.” Stannis remarked in a clipped tone, before gesturing to the doorway. “Let's go to the living room. It's always warm in there, even without a fire going."

The pair took their cookies and respective beverages into the living room, which, though it did not lack for warmth, was not cozy by any means. The furniture seemed hard and firm from lack of use, and the walls were bare of any decoration. A desk was situated in the corner, which served as Stannis's primary writing desk when he had long pieces to write. He preferred to work in this room since it was void of almost all distractions.

The two sat down on the single couch and made themselves as comfortable as possible. To Stannis's surprise, Davos twisted the beer cap off with his mouth, and he silently cursed himself for neglecting to bring a bottle opener from the kitchen.

"So," The man spoke between sips. "Ready to hear the thrilling tale of my youth?"

"Alright. Go on."

"Well... Gods, where do I start? Alright... See, I was practically raised on the sea when I was a kid. My dad was a crabber, and my mom lived with him on the boat. He didn't necessarily see the purpose in me getting a formal education, so he never sent me to school. He taught me everything I needed to know about the ocean, though. Navigation, marine life, _everything_ , Stannis. I was happy, though I didn't have any other kids to play with. I really only needed my parents.

Unfortunately, they passed when they were fairly young... I was also pretty young when it happened, maybe thirteen or so. I don't quite know what happened- in fact, I'd prefer it if I never knew..." He was silent for a moment before continuing. "But I remember them docking and saying that they'd be back in a few hours. They told me to wait, and they never came back. I think they were murdered. I'd rather not dwell on that, though. I knew I had to leave, but I didn't know where I'd go. I was young, afraid... I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. But I sailed anyway.

"It took a long time, but somehow I ended up in Lys. I wasn't low on food by any means, but I decided to dock anyway. It was scary - I was in a new place, and I didn't know exactly _why_. Well, anyway, I saw a group of boys near the docks, and they seemed to be around my age. I wasn't good with social interaction at all, but I approached them anyway. I guess I was desperate.

"I asked where I was, and if they spoke the Common Tongue. They mostly stared at me - heh, they were probably bewildered, seeing some lost-looking kid come up to them out of nowhere. The only one who responded was Salladhor Saan, who's still my closest friend nowadays. He told me that I was in Lys." Davos seemed to recall something then, and his solemn expression was replaced with that of amusement.

"I remember asking him if he was lost too, since he looked like he was from the Summer Islands. They all laughed at that, and Sal asked me why I was in Lys. I remember the look on his face when I explained what had happened. Apparently, he thought I was insane, but he didn't tell me that until years later.

"Anyway, it turned out those kids were smugglers. Some of them were older, eighteen or so, and they took me under their wing. The boat I lived on was older than theirs, so they helped me unload it. They found where my parents kept their money and gave it to me, though I'm sure they took some while they had the chance. We sold the old thing and divided the money evenly amongst each other. ‘ _It's all of our money, now,_ ’ they had said, and I went along with it.

"For years, I went along with them on operations. We never smuggled anything major, only fruits and vegetables, mostly from the Summer Islands. My knowledge of the water was pretty amazing, and by the time I was eighteen, all of the operations were led by me.

"It was a fun life, I'll admit, but after a few years, things changed. I got married for one, which was great at the time. I took a break from smuggling for three years or so, and Marya and I lived in Cape Wrath for a while. We had three kids, all boys. I was happy, but I wanted to go back to sailing. Sal wanted me to come back as well, so… I did. I felt bad for leaving Marya like that... I still do.

"I only saw her from time to time, then. We'd have two more sons in the future, but whenever I returned, I could tell our feelings for one another were the same...

"Well, when I returned to smuggling with Sal, he told me that they had started smuggling drugs. I was skeptical at first, because I knew that getting caught drug smuggling would fuck us all up for life. I eventually gave in. We never used the drugs for obvious reasons, though we would pass some time by smoking some stuff we had purchased ourselves. We had a lot of money, then, but we were young and stupid and didn't know what to do with it besides buy drugs and alcohol. Gods, that was a long time ago.

"It went very well, and we never got caught or anything, though we came close more than a few times. But... The worst operation was one we had to do in Braavos... We went to pick up a shipment in a particularly sketchy area, but it turns out some _other_ guys had planned to take the same shipment. Fucking mess... We ended up getting into a big fight, but the others were better armed than us. My friends managed to get out in one piece, but the other bastards got me. I was knocked out, and they brought me to some empty factory - when I woke up, they were all looming over me, like in some film. I was tied up and my mouth was taped. I couldn't move, or scream. They had a knife, and they used it to unbind my wrists." He stopped for a moment and swallowed some beer. The pain in his eyes was plainly visible. Stannis could feel himself growing antsy with anticipation.

"It took four of them to hold me down while they cut off my fingers. I was conscious while the first two went... The knife was too dull... They had to saw away at my skin for such a fucking _long time_. I passed out after the second finger was almost gone. You can't imagine the _pain_ , Stannis... I couldn't comprehend my own thoughts, I honestly thought I had died and gone to hell.

"When I woke up, I was in the backseat of a car, and my wounds were wrapped up in some torn cloth. It turns out that Sal had convinced the other guys to come back for me. He said that if I weren't such an excellent sailor, they most likely would have left me to die. One of our brothers died trying to get me back. I think I prayed for the first time in my life when I heard that... I still feel like I owe a debt, somehow."

There was a minute of solemn silence as Stannis processed Davos's story. It was emotional and fascinatingly melancholy. It was strangely heroic and tragically painful. He felt an interest in Davos - the intrigue that surrounded him - that he had never felt for any other person before.

"What happened to your sons? The other ones?" Stannis was staring through the window at a passing car. Davos took a treat from the platter and chewed it so much that it became apparent his mind was elsewhere. Then, he finally spoke.

"They all died."

"... I'm sorry, Davos."

"No, don't apologize. It was... Some time ago. I've had time to mourn. They all joined the army and died one way or another. Can you believe it? They all had similar aspirations and suffered the same fate... Devan was still young then, so he doesn't really remember his brothers. I guess that's a good thing. Marya and I got a divorce around then as well. It was a big fucking mess. I've lived with my son in Flea Bottom ever since, and I'm pretty happy now."

"You know, Stannis, there was a time in my life where I had nothing but my son and my job. I felt as if I ought to be hopeless, but... I never felt that way, not even once. I consider myself an optimistic person, you know. I know that almost all of my troubles are in the past now. You know why?"

"... Why?" Stannis leaned back into the seat's firm cushion and closed his eyes. He was getting drowsy. The room was extremely warm and it was probably past his designated Friday night bedtime.

"Because I have you."

"I haven't done that much for you at all, Davos."

"You _have_ , though. And it's not just that, Stannis. Just being around you makes me feel positive, and happy, and cheerful. I really appreciate all you've done for me in these past, uh, two weeks or so." Stannis opened his eyes and observed as Davos finally finished his last dreg of beer. He couldn't help but quirk a brow at the man's words. He didn't think he had gotten this much praise in a span of two weeks since middle school.

"Well, thank you, Davos. You know, I think that the only person with a higher opinion of me than you is Shireen."

Davos grinned and opened the Sangria, generously filling his cup with the sweet stuff.

"Stannis, would you like to go out some time? Not to study or anything like that. Just for fun."

"You mean to hang out?"

"Yeah... Well, no. Not entirely. I was thinking along the lines of something... Romantic."

Stannis felt his heart stop, though the sensation did not register on his face. His jaw clenched as he resisted the urge to grind his teeth together. Intimacy had always been something he had feared. In all of his past relationships, he had been so miserably uncomfortable that tragic breakups had become an inevitable part of dating for him.

"Did the thought ever occur to you," Stannis insinuated, looking Davos straight in the eye. "That I might not be interested in men?"

In that moment, that expression Davos made was enough to make Stannis ill with regret.

"Of course I considered it, but the thought alone wasn't enough to discourage me from trying. I can barely go a day without thinking about you, you know. I figured that I might as well let you know before we got too close. If you feel like I've betrayed your trust, I'm sorry."

Stannis sighed. He hadn't felt a connection with another person in a very long time. Perhaps a change like this would make him feel less empty and tired. 

"I'd would like very much to go out with you, Davos."

"Wait, really?" Stannis nodded.

“You seem like a nice enough guy. And who knows, it may turn out to be fun.”

\--

While waiting for the last train to King's Landing, Davos craftily used his new study chart to send Salladhor Saan his first text.

_Fuck u sal ;)_

Davos was proud of himself for utilizing his resources.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to post this tonight, but there was a shooting threat at my school so i stayed home. Can you believe it? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was the chapter I looked forward to writing the most, which explains the length. In fact, it was the idea of telling this version of Davos's story that inspired me to write this entire fic! Also shoutout to shoujo AGAIN for improving this!  
> Another note, I had planned for this fic to be about three chapters long originally, but i think it may end up being a lot longer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though it's not official, why don't we call this their first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you really imagine modern AU Stannis wearing anything but a turtleneck and the occasional suit?

Davos was _unbelievably_ thrilled for this afternoon. The night of his dreams had gone down mere hours in the past, and his head was still buzzing as a result. He was nearly in disbelief due to the events of the previous night.  
  
He had asked Stannis on an impromptu date, and had had his advance accepted to his delight and complete surprise.

Stannis had then invited him to return to Dragonstone early on Saturday so that they could have a meal and spend some time together before their next lesson.

Could _anything_ go wrong today?

Davos was so lost in his own thought process he failed to acknowledge to growing clouds of smoke billowing from the pan in front of him. His mind was wandering in a vale of warm fantasies, and he had delved so far into his own imagination that the smell of burning breadcrumbs masked itself with a deceiving scent of herbs, spices, and joy.

" _Dad!_ The thing is burning!" Devan shouted alarmingly from across the room, and Davos stood blankly for a moment before acknowledging the situation before him. The fire detector began to beep weakly, and Devan got up to throw open a window.

"Oh... Oh shit!" He quickly turned the stove off and moved his chicken off of the burner. He would have to salvage what he could of his ruined meal. So much for impressing Stannis with his cooking. Davos sighed. He considered himself a decent chef, too. He grabbed a butter knife from a nearby drawer and began chipping away at the charred crumbs. He quite literally could not afford to let this dish go to waste.

"Where are you going again?" Devan asked, lowering the volume of the television as he spoke. Davos wondered for a moment if fourteen was too young to be watching _Fight Club_.

"I already told you, Dev. We're visiting a friend for a while."

_"We?"_

" _Yes_ , Dev. We. I'm not leaving you here alone. We'll probably be there until later tonight."

"Fine... We going to Sal's?"

"No. We're going to Stannis's."

"Ugh... What'll I do there?" Davos put down his knife.

"Devan, you've never met him or been in his house. You know he has a daughter, right? Hang out with her or _something_."

"Isn't she like, ten? What'll we do, play with dolls? She's a kid." Davos rewarded his wonderful teenage son with a patronly eye roll.

"So are you. She's eleven, so not much younger than you, you know. You can entertain her, or watch a movie with her. Just be courteous and don't complain. And don't spend the entire damn time on your phone, alright?"

"Yes, Dad." The volume of the movie on screen gradually increased again, and Davos gave his son a small smile.

He was delighted to find that most of the chicken was still edible. Appearance-wise, it wasn't as enticing as he had originally planned, but Davos always believed that taste came first. It was goddamn food, after all. This wasn't _Chopped_ , and he wasn't cooking for a _king_ or anything.

"Alright, Dev, we're leaving in an hour. Make sure you look decent."

"Yup."

Almost an hour later, Davos had his food packed and ready, had dressed in some of his nicest casual clothing, and had taken some extra time to groom his hair properly. As he gazed into his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he couldn't help but think that he looked somewhat handsome. He wasn't dressed formally at all, but he looked a lot more... Put together than usual. It beat the usual old jeans, uniform top, and work boots.

Despite the many attempts to busy his mind with other thoughts, he couldn't fight the anxiety welling in his stomach whenever he thought about Stannis. It was a good anxiety, however, and eventually he forced himself to welcome it and the discomfort that tagged along with it.

He took a shit before he left just to be safe.

The train ride to Dragonstone took a little longer than Davos's daily commute to Antlers. The stop in Rosby lasted quite some time do to poor travel conditions, so in total, the ride was a little over two hours long. Davos spent the entire trip revising his worksheets and practicing his hand at writing. He was displeased with his own handwriting, which appeared to be a solid level above chickenscratch, and the train’s nearly constant motion did nothing to improve it. The thought of eventually being able to use his writing to benefit himself reassured him, however, and he was spurred to write until his hand ached and his brain was pulsing in his skull. He really wasn't quite comfortable with his left hand being dominant despite it being years after losing his fingers, and yet he convinced himself that he would be able to use it to its full capabilities after much more practice.

Devan, on the other hand, spent the entire commute drifting in and out of sleep. One of his earbuds had fallen out of his ear and onto the container in his lap. He seemed extremely disoriented when he awoke to find the outside world to be completely black.

"What... Where are we? What happened?" His words were slurred from drowsiness, and his hair was a bit matted from resting his head against the compartment's cool window.

"Good morning. We're in an underwater tunnel. We'll be on Dragonstone in ten minutes. Try to stay awake." Devan had nodded back off in three minutes, and Davos had to tap his cheek a few times to wake him up again.

His son seemed fully awake by the time they had stepped onto the cold platform at Dragonstone’s small station. It was situated outdoors and above ground, and the breeze from the sea made it especially chilly. Devan was eager to board other cozy means of transportation so that he could drift into another travel-induced coma.

"How long until we get there, Dad?"

"That depends on how fast you can walk."

"No way… You've gotta be shitting me with this..."

"Language, Dev."

"Sorry. I meant to say kidding. But you were joking, right?" Davos sighed. Could he live?

"Yes, Dev. It was a joke. We'll be taking a short bus ride from here. Only about ten minutes. Dragonstone is a pretty small island." Davos hoisted his bag back into place and led the way as he and his son made their way to the bus transport.

"Dev, is the food alright?" The man asked as he waited with his son for the bus that would take them to Stannis's street.

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Good. I expect you to look out the window at your surroundings on the bus. You're in a new place, so it'd be good to appreciate what you see.” Davos checked his watch. It was just past 1 in the afternoon. “Oh, and did you check the mail?"

"I will. And I did. Nothing too important came in."

"Great," Davos ruffled Devan's hair, making the boy grin. "You're an amazing kid, you know."

\--

Stannis was a man of knowledge. He was a scholar, a student, a boss, and a leader. He was a hard-working father, a man of honor, and kin to one of the most famous men in Westeros. Yes, Stannis was a lot of things.

But he sure as hell wasn't a goddamn cook.

Stannis _hated_ cooking, and often relied on pre-made meals from high-end grocery stores to satisfy the necessity of food in his house. During the week, Cressen cooked as long as Stannis kept a sufficient amount of ingredients stocked. He always made sure to keep a variety of items, though he had no idea what type of witchcraft it took to combine them into a decent meal that wasn't baked macaroni and cheese, instant pancakes or mashed potatoes.

Today, he had tried to test his abilities. He had a delicious looking baked macaroni and cheese bubbling in the oven, and with a bit of Shireen's help, he had stir fried a sorry-looking platter of vegetables that despite being seasoned, still tasted like plain vegetables with a microscopic amount of seasoning salt mixed in. He had tried to grill some steaks out in his yard, but while he was preparing the vegetables he had forgotten all about them. When he opened the grill, he was kissed full-on by a putrid cloud of grey smoke, and his steaks were nothing but charred and shriveled mounds of inedible blackened substance. What a waste.

Stannis would have liked to run to the store and pick up some more meat, but Davos would be arriving at any moment, and not being present would be downright rude. His turtleneck began to feel a little too hot. Was he really stressing that much? Stannis absolutely hated it when things didn't go according to plan.

Well, it seemed they would be having a vegetarian meal. The thought of his failure made his blood boil like a pasta pot. He needed to simmer down with a glass of water.

The doorbell rang just as Stannis was pouring himself a tall glass of ice water. Despite it being the cold season, Stannis only drank his water with ice. The tap water in Dragonstone was horrid when consumed without some sort of garnish, and Stannis believed that ice improved the flavor. With a forlorn sigh, the man placed his cup back onto the counter and quickly made his way through the corridors to the foyer. Shireen, however, was there first, and she threw the door open enthusiastically to find a tall, slim figure standing in the doorway. The girl shied away from the door.

"Hello, Ms. Melisandre."

"Hello, Shireen." The beautiful woman gave a warm smile, her crimson locks shining with a brilliant luster even in the dull overcast sky. She was much too underdressed, even for the mild Southern winter. "You look disappointed, sweetie. Expecting someone else?"

"Yes. My dad's friend is coming over." Melisandre's eyes flicked up to meet Stannis's with a questioning raise of the brow. Stannis responded with a shrewd frown.

"Hello, Stannis. I hope I'm not disrupting any plans of yours." This woman was much too sly, and Stannis couldn't help but feel that he was being mocked constantly when in her presence.

"You are, and I'd very much appreciate it if you left soon." Stannis seethed, his tone bitingly bitter. The tension in the back of his neck began to twist like wicked vines, pulsing with poison and making him ache.

"Still angry, hm? Can't we just let bygones be bygones and live like happy neighbors do?" Shireen, clearly intimidated by the amount of tension and loathing felt between Melisandre and her father, slipped away down the hallway.

"No, we can't. What do you want, Melisandre?" The woman smirked, her eyes narrowing diabolically as if she had caught the man in a trap.

"Nothing much. They gave me your mail again. Here." The two made stern eye contact as the papers were exchanged. "Also, I was just curious as to how you were doing. Making friends now, are we? I'm proud of you, Stannis." The impudent smirk plastered onto her face said otherwise.

"Leave, Melisandre. I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Fine. I'll call you later, or you can stop by my house when you have the time. It's not far at all."

"I know where you live. And don't call me."

And with that, the woman left Stannis's home with the grace of an autumn leaf twisting in the cool breeze.

Stannis ground his teeth.

\--

Davos nearly bumped into a woman as he made his way up the stone path to Stannis's home. She was about a head taller than Davos, and had long hair the color of fresh shed blood. Her outfit was also completely red, which struck the man as a bit eccentric, and when their eyes met, he couldn't help but notice the touch of scarlet present in her irises. Suddenly, the world around him seemed a bit warmer, and it somehow chilled Davos to the core.

"Oh, excuse me, miss."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention." She said with a charming smile. "Are you a friend of Stannis's?"

"More or less. He's my tutor. Sort of. You a friend of his?"

"Oh, more or less. I'm just his neighbor at the moment."

"... I see... Alright, well, it was nice chatting with you."

"Yes, it was a pleasure meeting you as well. Stannis is quite eager to see you. R'Hllor be with you." The woman passed him by with a rush of warm air. Davos and his son exchanged a look as they continued up the path. He wondered if she was from Asshai. Nowadays, many worshippers of the Red God resided in Westeros, but even so, the majority were either of Asshai'i descent or immigrants from that region of Essos. Davos had detected no hint of an accent, so he assumed that she was the former.

"Weird lady," Devan murmured, and Davos agreed with an amused nod. After trekking up the rocky incline for another minute or so, the two finally came upon the estate, which stood grand and stately and just magnificent.

" _God damn_..." Devan breathed. He was utterly astonished. "It this really his place?"

"It is."

"Goddamn sketchy... It's creepy, like a haunted house."

Davos rung the doorbell and was startled when Stannis opened up almost immediately. His expression suggested he was in a foul mood, and Davos's mind immediately flashed to the red woman.

"Hello, Davos." Stannis's face seemed to lift when he saw the man standing in the doorway. Now that he looked less distressed, he seemed younger, and fresher.

"Hi Stannis. This is Devan. Dev, this is Mr. Baratheon." Devan smiled and shook the older man's hand. Though Stannis did not smile back, the boy did not seem intimidated. As the two exchanged pleasantries best as a teenager and an adult could, Shireen made her second front door debut. She seemed a bit hesitant to make her way back down the halls, but after seeing Davos from a distance, her shyness melted away and her layer of youthful curiosity became dominant once again. Davos could tell that she was eager to introduce herself to Devan. The boy, however, had his eyes fixed on the cadaverous skin spread across her face.

"Devan, this is my daughter, Shireen." Stannis said whilst placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"How old are you?" She asked the older boy, who now had his gaze fixed on the foil-covered dish in his hands.

"I'm fourteen."

"You're tall for fourteen!" A smile spread across Devan's face, and Davos knew that it was because the boy had always prided himself in being taller than his father.

"My dad told me to show you around. Follow me, Devan."

The boy had a split second to put the glass dish into his father's arms before he was tugged up the stairs by a girl only a little more than half his height. Davos snickered to himself before returning his attention to Stannis, who still appeared to be pondering something unpleasant.

"Stannis? There something wrong?"

"What? Um, no. Not really. What'd you make?" Davos frowned with dissatisfaction. The man was clearly troubled, and though he thought it'd be rude to prod where he wasn't supposed to, he felt genuine concern for his wellbeing.

"I'm not going to tell you unless you let me know what's up."

Davos was rewarded with a look of utter disbelief.

"Alright… It's my neighbor. Melisandre. She's been getting under my skin again as of late and it's really stressful, to be frank. It's not a big deal, though. Just drama, I suppose..."

"Is she that red lady who was coming down when I was coming up?"

"Yes. You spoke with her?"

"Briefly. She seemed strange. Kind of eccentric, actually."

"She's not as strange as you think... Can you tell me what you brought, now?" Davos grinned and lifted the lid off of the container, revealing the food he had just narrowly saved from a smelly plastic grave.

"It's just some breaded pan-fried chicken. Nothing fancy. Can I put it in the kitchen?"

"That's fine. Thank you for bringing that over. I actually burned... Nevermind. You can grab yourself a drink from the fridge if you'd like. I bought some beer for you. I don't know what kind you prefer, so I got some different varieties."

Davos knew at that very moment that he loved that man.

\--

Devan was in complete awe as he and Shireen made their way through the palatial structure those two called a home. Never in his life had he seen such a display of wealth. It damn near blew his fucking _mind_ and made him absolutely green with envy.

Devan wouldn't describe the home as particularly _opulent_. Sure, it was overwhelmingly large, but otherwise it was disappointingly plain. The most interesting room by far was Shireen's own, which was painted a noble purple and filled with girly toys and historic artifacts alike. Aesthetically, it was strange yet consistent. The girl seemed to have an interest in royalty and the like, judging from the abundance of _Disney_ princess posters, stuffed toys, historical fiction books, and other similar paraphernalia.

The bedroom itself was not much larger than normal, and the light carpet that covered the floor gave it a more home-like feeling. Devan felt like he could relax a bit here. Now there was the issue of entertaining this girl...

"So, Shireen, what do you wanna do?" Devan didn't want to disturb the girl's neatly made bed, so he sat on the soft carpet instead, sliding his phone out of his pocket and sending his friend Sansa a quick text. They had been texting a lot lately, and he found her fun to talk to.

_and the ultimate babysitting begins_

Meanwhile, Shireen was looking around at her possessions, possibly contemplating what a teenage boy would do for fun. She then made her way to her small television, which was comfortably situated on a small nightstand, and drew from under it a neglected looking gaming system.

"Do you wanna play this? I never really do since I don't like video games much, but there are a couple of games I like!" _Now_ Devan was interested. He only got the opportunity to game at friends' houses since he owned no consoles or handhelds himself. He understood his father's choice to spend money on more worthwhile and necessary objects. Besides, simply having a laptop was good enough for them.

"Sure," Devan affirmed, scanning the bookshelf from across the room. He spotted about six games lost in a sea of books of all sizes. Devan started to believe that this girl may be smarter than a good amount of the kids in his grade. "What kind of games you got?"

"Umm... Not many. My dad doesn't let me play violent games or anything like that. I have some Zelda games and a few Mario games. I don't think Zelda is multiplayer, though. Wanna play Mario?"

Devan nodded in affirmation and assisted her in setting the system back up. When the game was running, the pair sat in silence for a while. They were focused on the teamwork required to successfully get through each level, so it wasn't awkward at all. However, after a while, Devan felt compelled to say something to her.

"You're pretty good at this," He said with a wide grin. In reality she was just okay, but he wasn't about to destroy the confidence of an eleven year old.

"Thanks. You're _really_ good at this. Do you have this game?"

"No, but I've played it a couple of times before. Good game." There was a pause as Devan revived Shireen's character. "So you like princesses and stuff?" The girl had chosen Princess Peach to play with, while Devan was simply Luigi.

"I _love_ princesses, actually! I love anything having to do with kings and queens and castles, really. Dragons are cool, too. My dad got me a dragon bone a few years ago, and I keep it in a secret box in my room. It's so sad that they're extinct, though... They were _so_ cool!" Devan laughed, which earned him a sincere little smile from the younger girl.

"You sure that's sad? Imagine what they'd do if they got loose!"

"That's true, I guess."

"... So why the interest in kingdoms and sh - sorry, stuff?" Shireen turned to the older boy with a gleam in her eye, leading her game character to a cruel unintended suicide. Devan had the feeling he was about to sit through a lecture. The girl began, confirming his fears.

"My family used to rule Westeros hundreds of years ago! Cool, right? You’ve read about the reign of the Baratheons, right? Like, it's amazing looking in a textbook at school and reading my last name in there! It's still weird when kids look at me like _'what???'_ , you know? Imagine if we still had princesses and stuff. I could be famous!" Shireen paused the game and pointed towards an object on a different nightstand next to her bed. It was a rather lackluster crown with a dull smooth finish. It looked like pure gold, though Devan doubted any parent would let their child keep a solid gold crown in their bedroom, no matter how loaded they were.

"That," The girl gushed enthusiastically, "is the crown that one of my ancestors wore. He was the king right here on Dragonstone. His castle used to be around here, but it was destroyed in a war like sixty years ago." Devan picked up his phone and checked his messages. Sansa had texted back a little while ago.

_Nice one. Are you having fun? :)_

Devan sent a brief message back.

_yeah tbh. this little girl is actually really smart i kind of hate it_

_\- Did you know that it takes more effort to make your texts all lowercase?_

_yeah but i like it better. fight me stark._

_\- You sound like my sister! It's kind of funny. I have to go. Have fun with your little friend! :)_

_thanks. have fun with your older girlfriend_

_\- She's only two years older than me, Dev._

_ok. have fun with your older girlfriend_

Devan finally looked back up at Shireen, who was still going on about some of her artifacts and ancestry. He secretly hoped that she knew he had been paying attention the entire time.

"Shouldn't that crown be in a museum or something?"

"Oh, no, that's a... A copy."

"You mean a replica?"

"Yeah." She unpaused the game and the two resumed their silence for a little while.

" _Devan?_ " Shireen whispered, her voice barely audible over the music of the game.

"Yeah?"

" _Can I tell you a secret?"_

"... Sure."

" _I think my dad likes your dad._ " Devan wasn't sure if that had been a joke, so he smiled anyway.

"Well, yeah, I mean isn't that why we're here?"

"No, Devan, I don't mean _like._ I mean _like_ like." Devan's heart froze in his chest. He glanced to see if Shireen was joking, but found no smile on her scarred grey face.

"How can you tell?" Maybe it was because of his oblivious teen brain, but Devan had not noticed a change in his father once he had begun hanging out with Stannis. To be honest, he had always known that his dad was bisexual (Devan had heard way too many stories about Davos's smuggling days), but since he had married a woman in the past, Devan had just assumed that he didn't like men that much.

"My dad's very lonely, even though he pretends to be fine." She began. "But when he met your dad, he seemed happy again. My dad is nice, but he doesn't seem that way most of the time. Not a lot of people like him."

"That's really sad, actually. But like... How do you know he, uh, likes him, you know?"

"I can tell. It's the way he talks about him, and the way he just seemed to be in a dreamy mood before you guys got here. It's almost unreal how happy he's been lately. He took me shopping the other day, even though he hates going to the mall."

"And that's enough to let you know?"

"Yup. I know my dad better than he thinks I do." For the first time in his life, Devan felt as if he didn't know his father as well as he believed. It really bothered him.

\--

Davos had been sitting on the couch with Stannis for almost an hour, and yet they had barely exchanged any words. Instead, they pretended to be completely immersed in some ten year-old film while occasionally stealing awkward glances at each other. Sometimes they made eye contact, but it was often quickly broken by a quick movement of the eye.

"Seen this movie before?" Stannis finally inquired after their longest stretch of silence. Davos decided to use this golden opportunity to make a move.

"What? I couldn’t quite hear you."

Stannis lightly cleared his throat and asked once again, a little louder,

"Have you seen this movie before?"

"Excuse me, _what?_ I can't hear you, Stannis." This time, he spoke much louder.

" _Have you seen this movie before, Davos?_ " Davos decided he had irked him enough for the time being.

" _Oh_ , I see. You know, Stannis, I'd probably be able to hear you if we weren't on opposite sides of this couch." Stannis frowned accusingly at the man who deflected his pressing with a sly smile. It was true. The two men were situated on opposite sides of Stannis's rather long couch.

Slowly but surely, Stannis inched his way closer to Davos. He stopped at a point that Davos did not find satisfactory, and to the man's surprise, he closed the distance himself, wrapping an arm comfortably around Stannis's shoulder.

The stern man did not appear to be entirely comfortable with their position, but the lack of any complaint urged Davos to take it a step further. He could feel Stannis's body tense up as he placed as soft kiss on his lightly bearded jaw.

"Relax, Stannis..." Davos murmured against his skin and brought his shortened fingers up to trace circles on his cheek.

"But Davos... Shireen, they're upstairs."

"We'll hear them if they come down..." Just then, Davos pulled himself away and look Stannis straight in the eye. The light from the single lamp made his eyes stormy blue, dreary and intense as a tempest. Davos feared that Stannis would be discomforted by such a sudden advance. He didn't seem like the sort of man who enjoyed being touched.

"Is this really alright with you?" The flicker in the other man's eyes send a bolt of anxiety down his spine.

"It's fine... I don't mind..."

"... You sure?  Because to me, 'fine' isn't enough."

"I'm definitely sure. I don't mind..." Davos then leaned into the other man, gently pressing his lips against the lower part of his jaw again. The turtleneck was making it more than a bit difficult to get to his neck. Stannis sat unmoving, as if he didn't know what to do with his hands. Davos shifted so that he was facing Stannis completely, and took the other man's hands into his own. When he looked back up, he was disappointed to find that his beautiful gaze was elsewhere, as if he wanted to look anywhere but into Davos's eyes.

Davos smiled and squeezed Stannis's hands with a reassuring kind of firmness.

 "Are you embarrassed?" He noticed the man pale a bit before finally looking him full in the face.

"A bit... Naturally..."

"Am I the first man you've ever kissed?"

"... Yes. You are."

"Am I your first kiss?" Davos mused gently. He felt Stannis physically relax, filling his heart with a strange contentedness. The low lighting in the room made for an even more romantic setting, though the rhythmic sound of machine guns blaring from the television ruined the atmosphere just a bit.

To Davos's surprise, Stannis replied,

"In a way..."

Davos, a bit perplexed as to how that could be the truth, went in nonetheless, planting a firm kiss on Stannis's lips. He could feel the man trembling in his grip, and a few agonizing moments passed before he relaxed and allowed Davos to enter his mouth.

Davos couldn't remember the last time he'd kissed anyone, or even had sex. His job was tiring, and he usually returned home almost too exhausted to make dinner. He certainly didn't have the time or money to go about in search of love and entertainment. He was getting too old for that kind of stuff.

The warmth he felt when kissing Stannis was familiar, and in a moment he was lost in it, grabbing desperately for Stannis's hair, or clothing, or _anything_. Outwardly, Stannis was a cold and intimidating man, but his kiss was warm and inviting. Davos could feel his icy layers melting away, revealing the much more private section of his persona. Stannis tried to stifle a light moan, but Davos felt the light vibration of sound against his own skin accompanied by a light puff of breath, and nearly shivered with delight.

When the two separated to take a moment to breathe, it seemed neither could look directly at the other. Davos felt the burning heat of arousal growing in his lower body, but did his best to cover himself up. His body has its needs, and he did know that he was quite depraved, but he also knew that taking time would be crucial to keep this a consistently healthy relationship.

When he looked up, Stannis was glancing at him curiously. Davos gave him a brief smirk and caught just a hint of a smile on Stannis's face.

"Should we call Devan and Shireen down for lunch?" He inquired casually, standing and turning the volume down on the television so that the sound of the woman fighting on screen was reduced to something above a harsh whisper.

"Soon. We should probably heat the food up first… Which may take a few more minutes." Davos replied, doing nothing to mask the deviance in his voice.

"That's true."

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this was late! I had a very busy and fun weekend and a lot of homework last week, which was significantly less fun.  
> Anyway, regarding the fic, I was happy to sneak a bit of romantic progress in there. Also, I had to include Meli, one of the baddest bitches in all of Westeros.  
> Thanks for reading, and thank you to shoujo for the advice!!! Without it this chapter would be three times longer, I swear.  
> Also, I really enjoyed writing from the point of view of Devan :0 His versatility of character is fun to play with, and it's a lot easier for me to write teenagers than older characters.  
> Peace! ;0


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Devan visits the beach, makes plans, and thinks about his father's relationship while Davos and Stannis just have a good ol' romantic time.

He didn't quite know how it had happened, but Devan found himself sitting at the strangest meal he had ever had the displeasure of experiencing. He wasn't _uncomfortable_ , so to say, but there was certainly something off-putting about witnessing your father gazing dreamily at another person from across a dining room table large enough to seat half of the Westerosi federal government. When Devan ate with his father, they usually went on about their days, and Devan always had a coworker story to look forward to hearing. It was always a calm and enjoyable time. Sometimes he went through the mail or his father's emails and read the content out loud.

More often than not, he didn't understand what _any_ of the taxes and bills bullshit meant, but Davos, the smartest man in the world, in Devan's opinion, always understood. They got by, even though his father had the literary capabilities of a kindergartner.

Today, however, all of his father's attention was on Mr. Baratheon, who looked more uncomfortable than anybody else at the table. Devan wondered what Davos saw in him. He certainly saw nothing appealing about the man's general demeanor or attitude. He seemed dull, irritable, and anti-social, and Devan did not appreciate that in the least.

As for the meal, Devan thought it to be alright at best. He had secretly hoped to be presented with an array of dishes made by a line of professional chefs hailing from places like Dorne, or the Summer Islands, or even places in Sothoryos. He half expected a staff of butlers to bring the food on silver platters, raising the cover to reveal the decadent gourmet food beneath... As well as his father's nearly ruined chicken.

But no, it was a normal "serve yourself and sit down" meal. There weren't even any violinists playing a quiet classical tune in the background. Devan was beginning to believe that the way wealth was presented in popular media was a _bit_ exaggerated.

To his left, Shireen was listening intently to her father converse with Davos about their jobs and whatnot. Even the man's _occupation_ was boring. _Really? A textbook editor?_ Devan had to summon up all of his self-control to keep himself from snorting.

While in the middle of forking up the baked macaroni and cheese (Devan hated baked mac and cheese, and considered the baking of pasta in general to be a sin and direct assault on the tastebuds) when a small foot tapped his shin gently from under the table. He looked over at Shireen, who was grinning at him, steam billowing under her chin from her nearly untouched dinner. He couldn't help but smile in return. He had really taken a liking to this girl. She really  wasn't bad for a sixth grader.

"This is fun," She said quietly, as if her words were for his ears only. "My dad and I never talk like this over dinner."

"Wouldn't that get awkward?"

"No, not really. I only eat dinner with him on weekends, anyway. When we eat together, it's like reflection time."

"I see..."

In his mind, Devan was shaking his head. This poor girl! How did she survive under Stannis's roof? How did she remain so positive and enthusiastic while having to spend her days with such an uptight and uninteresting man. Devan couldn't imagine life with a father other than his own.

And then it dawned on him.

If Shireen was correct in her judgement, his father and Stannis could start _dating_. They would live together, and Devan would be condemned to suffer the same fate. He didn't like that idea. He didn't like Stannis. He was perfectly content with his current life, poor as they were.

Suddenly, the food before him smelled sickening. He couldn't stomach the thought of having to eat more. He wondered if this was the kind of dinner where you had to excuse yourself to leave the table. A quick analysis of Stannis's character would suggest that he was correct.

"Um-" He cut in, and the two men stopped talking.

"Yes, Dev?"

"Can I be excused?" Davos looked to Stannis, who promptly nodded. Devan left the dining room almost frantically, his fork threatening to topple off his plate and onto the floor several times while he made his way into the kitchen.

It occurred to the boy that he really had no idea where he ought to go for some thinking time. He walked silently down the dim hallway and came across a small study with some couches that looked anything but comfortable. When he stepped into the high-ceilinged room, he was surprised to find that it was pleasantly warm. He plopped himself down onto a loveseat and texted Sansa promptly.

_sansa, i'm having a dilemma :(_

He was almost startled when he received a text back almost immediately.

_\- What's wrong? Is it serious???_

_nr its just that i think my dad is in LOVE and i don't know what to do. i don't like the guy he's interested in ://_

_\- I don't know, Dev. Doesn't that seem a bit selfish on your part? :/ Also, I didn't know your dad was gay!_

_he's not. he's bi. but like i'm pretty happy with my life right now even tho we're broke af. i don't need some other guy in my life who always seems like he has a turd stuck in his ass all the time_

_\- Umm, ew? But Devan, I really think you should give him a chance. You've only just met him, right? Think about how your dad would feel._

_whatever i'll give him a chance i guess!!!! i don't even hate him or anything he's just fucking pissy looking. and quiet. quiet middle-aged men concern me_  
_oh btw didn't u say u were going back to winterfell pretty soon_

_\- I am for some time. I love the Crownlands, but I miss home. Even in this weather! Winterfell is really pretty when it snows._

_winterfell is such a tiny city isn't it? like a college town? wouldn't it be kinda bleak esp when it's cold?_

_\- Not really, we're called Winterfell for a reason! The town is really tight-knit and homey. You'd like it._  
_The rest of the North sort of barren, just trees and snow and isolated homes. At least until you hit the wall, which is a big tourist attraction. You should come up some time and meet my family :) There are a lot of ski resorts up here, too._  
_Do you have plans for the break?_

_what break?_  
_oh_  
_OH MY GOD_  
_we're on break next week!!!! what!!!!!!_

_\- Yes, Dev. You should really come up, I don't think my parents would mind!_

_ok but wouldn't they be iffy about you bringing some boy into the house?_

_\- My family knows about Margaery, you know. Plus, I have like, four brothers._

_oh ok. where is Margaery going for the break?_

_\- Back to Highgarden! Btw Marg thinks that you're cute ;)_

_how.......... does she know what i look like_

_\- I dunno Dev, maybe because half of my Instagram feed is pictures of you :/_

_sorry. i thought everyone loved my face :/ you're just hypercritical_

_\- Whatever you saaaaaay! Anyway, I have to go study before curfew. Talk to you later, and good luck with your dad's bf!_

_he's not his bf_

_\- Good luck with your dad's bf! ;)_

Devan put down his phone again and pondered for a moment. Should he go to Winterfell with Sansa? Would he need a passport to enter the North? He hadn't recalled needing one when he had gone to the Riverlands with his father that one time...

"Hey, are you alright?" Inquired a voice from behind him, and he turned to see Shireen, looking curiously at him while leaning on the back of the couch.

"I'm alright. Just not hungry."

"What're you doing?"

"Texting a friend of mine. Sansa Stark, I'm sure you've heard of her father." The girl's eyes lit up with recognition of the name. The Starks were fairly well known throughout Westeros due to their general good morality and Ned Stark's lack of involvement in petty political scandals. He took his job very seriously, earning him much respect even in the Southern realms.

" _Stark?_ You mean like in the North? Is she Governor Ned Stark's daughter? That's _so_ cool, Devan! My uncle is actually best friends with Governor Stark. How did you meet her?"

"She goes to boarding school in King's Landing. We met at some joint cultural event for some public and private schools within the city. It was fun."

"You go to school in the big city? What's it like?"

"Loud, dirty... But it's still my home nonetheless."

\--

Stannis was perplexed. He was baffled by Davos, by his son, and most importantly, by himself.

He no doubt had found enjoyment in the kiss he shared with Davos. Never before had he felt such overwhelming passion. Sure, he had been very hesitant at first. In fact, he had been close to pushing the other man away from him. He however could not bring himself to raise an arm and harm Davos, and soon he had melted into his touch, forgetting his qualms entirely.

After all of this, Stannis still felt confused. He truly did not understand why Davos, a friendly, sociable and respectable man would have any interest whatsoever in a man such as himself. Stannis had long given up on the notion of love, deeming it destructive and unnecessary. In his mind, romance was synonymous with dejection and hopelessness.

But somehow... What he had felt with Davos was different than _anything_ he had ever felt in past romantic relationships. He knew that he had never loved Selyse, and she had never loved him back. With Melisandre, he felt that his emotions had been driven by the impulsiveness of desperation, and occasionally by the thrill of moral dishonesty. There had been no love. He had hungered for acceptance, reassurance that he was capable of the simplest of human instincts. After all of that had blown over, Stannis had been branded a social failure. His brothers still joked about it to no end, which added to the many reasons why he limited contact with them.

Stannis was also confused by Davos's son. He had seemed like a nice boy, courteous and respectful, but he couldn't help but feel that the boy fostered a mild resentment towards him. Perhaps it was jealousy, which Stannis could understand. The boy was probably just possessive over his father, as most children were.

It was just... The venomous glares that set him on edge. They were almost startlingly curt, and Stannis believes that if looks could kill... He'd have daggers sunken into his skull by now. With a nearly silent sigh, he returned his attention to the dirty dishes he had been cleaning. His intense thinking had led him to believe that he was multitasking when in reality, he had been scrubbing the same plate for a few minutes. The previously hot water had begun to grow lukewarm.

Davos returned from the restroom, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow and his usual friendly expression brightening his face. Stannis couldn't help but return the smile. It was endearing, seeing another human being regard him so fondly. He felt a blissful warmth spread throughout his body and his negativity seemed to melt away, replaced by cheerful optimism.

He found himself wondering if Davos had studied his letters sufficiently. He looked forward to assessing his short-term progress almost as much as he anticipated spending alone time with him.

"Do you need help with the dishes?" Davos offered kindly. There wasn’t much that needed to be cleaned, but Stannis was always willing to take an extra hand in the kitchen. It would get the job done faster.

"Yes, that'd be nice, actually."

The two worked in almost complete silence, save for the occasional random thought or question from Davos. Stannis got the feeling that Davos didn't speak just because he the silence of the room needed to be filled, but rather because he simply wanted to speak his mind. He did that quite often and Stannis secretly enjoyed that part of him. It was one of the traits that made them very different, and yet drew them together, like ionic bonds.

The kiss they had shared had awaken Stannis's sleeping heart, and he realized that he had thought about, and talked about, and cared so much for Davos because he had been harboring feelings for him ever since they had met. It was a beautiful feeling.

A little while later, Stannis found himself leaning against the granite counter of the kitchen's island, sipping a cool cup of refrigerated lime water while Davos sloshed a dry white wine around in a glass. Stannis had been talking about a book he had finished a few months back, and Davos was discussing the movie adaptation that he had willingly seen three times. Now, however, they were basking in the comfortable quiet that often followed a good conversation, Stannis listening to the quiet _hum_ of the fridge as he tapped his fingers on the smooth surface.

He stole a quick glance at Davos, who was looking at him directly while taking a rather large sip of wine. Though no words were exchanged, the drinks were put down almost simultaneously, and soon, Davos had his body pressed against Stannis, craning his neck slightly to kiss him again.

Standing up, it was strange, since Davos was at least several inches shorter than the other man, Stannis nearly had to bend a bit to match his height. It wasn't uncomfortable, however, and for the first time in years, he felt the burning sensation of arousal pooling in his crotch.

This wasn't good. The kids were still downstairs, he and Davos had important work to do, and most importantly, Stannis definitely didn't feel he was emotionally ready for sex. It had been too long.

Their kiss deepened, and Stannis could feel Davos's shortened fingers press against his bare skin. Stannis nearly flinched at the sudden chill of his touch. God damn, that man's fingers were cold! When Davos began to circle a nipple with his index finger, Stannis decided finally to break their contact. Gently, he separated his body from the other man's, and the disappointed look he received sent a pang of regret through his brain.

"I'm sorry... Is it too soon?" He took Stannis's hand into his own, rubbing gentle circles onto it with his thumb. Stannis felt himself growing calmer every second. He reached for his water with his free hand.

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry. It's just a bad time."

"What's the problem?"

"Well for one, Shireen and your son are feet away from this spot." The fact seemed to dawn on Davos just then, and his facial expression took on a look of mild horror.

"Oh, shit... I forgot, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. We should start our lesson soon, though. It's getting late. Have you studied?"

Davos, clearly a bit out of it due to the prompt change of atmosphere, nodded absently.

"A lot, actually. I wrote on the way here, and sent my first text last night, too."

Stannis raised his brows. He was both impressed and surprised. He hoped the man would keep up the hard work and steady motivation.

"Mind if I see the text?"

"Uh, sure," He slipped his phone from his pocket and took some time to find his messaging app. He seemed just a bit hesitant while handing his phone over. Stannis read:

_\- Fuck u sal ;)_

Whoever Sal was, he hadn't texted back. It wasn't difficult to assume why.

"This person didn't text back?"

"No," Davos grinned, finishing his last sip of wine. "He was so goddamn surprised he called me back..."

"It's nice that you know how to spell 'fuck'."

"Don't we all?" The two shared a light laugh as Davos helped himself to more wine. Stannis couldn't help but notice that the man drank just a _bit_ excessively. He seemed like the type that could hold his liquor quite well, but he didn't want anything getting in the way of Davos's education.

"Come on, let's start before you get shit-faced off of my wine."

\--

Devan woke from his slumber feeling refreshed, renewed, and reassured. He was curled into the couch, the TV playing quietly behind him. He vaguely remembered being upset about something when he had fallen asleep, and now he racked his brain for the answer... That's when he heard the muffled sound of a nearby snore, and remembered where he was, and why he had been in a bad mood.

He wasn't lying comfortably on his own couch in his own cozy apartment. He was still at the Baratheon's with his father, his traitor of a father who probably wanted to exchange spit with Stannis. The prospect of him being in love sickened him somehow.

Sure, Sansa had been correct in pointing out that his behavior was selfish, but who could blame him? He only had vague and limited memories of his mother and brothers, even, but his entire life had just been him and his father and no one else.

Devan sat up and rubbed his eyes with a knuckle. He was still a bit groggy, but he didn't think it was a good idea to go to sleep this early. It was only around eight, and he wanted to be able to get a full night's sleep later on. He had a game in the morning, and the last thing he wanted to do was be cranky.

Shireen was sleeping soundly on the loveseat, and her neck was craned uncomfortably so that her head hung just short of her chest. Devan got up and repositioned her so that she wouldn't wake up with a bad ache. Earlier, they had moved into a room with a television, only to ignore the program to talk about cancelled shows they had enjoyed in the past.

Admittedly, Devan was a bit hungry. In fact, it had been the lurching of his empty stomach that had woken him up in the first place. He regretted not eating his dinner. As much as he would have liked to, he felt it inappropriate to search the kitchen for leftovers. He would have been more comfortable in doing so with even Shireen's permission, but she was asleep, leaving him with no other choice but to ignore the hollow rumble of his stomach.

Devan was _bored_. His father was busy, Shireen was asleep, and he wasn't in the mood for watching television. The wifi was password protected and Devan had no intention of asking for the code. He found that asking for wifi passwords was usually an awkward ordeal, and rude to a certain extent, so he always relied on data when he was out and about. The data connection on Dragonstone, however, was complete garbage. Could he live?

He decided that he would take a brief walk outdoors. Winter had brought darkness hours in the past, but the gloomy clouds had dispersed, allowing the glowing disk of the moon to illuminate the island. Dragonstone had more rocks than anything, so the fear of having some creature emerge from the woods to attack was not needed.

He carefully made his way down the rocky slope, trying hard not to snap his ankle in the process. He knew that the beach was nearby, and despite the sharp bite of the gusty ocean breeze, he decided that he would find it. He could smell the mild stench of the ocean even from where he stood.

Finding the beach was not at all difficult. The shoreline was visible from the main road, and the walk there was a mere five minutes. He hadn't passed many houses on the way, perhaps only four or five, but was surprised to see another person sitting among the rocky sands. They had lit a rather large campfire. It looked rather inviting, and though part of him was telling him not to approach the stranger, his frozen ears, fingers, and nose told him otherwise.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure had a head of long dark hair, and soon he was able to recognize her as the red woman they had encountered leaving Stannis's estate the same morning. She was wrapped in a thick red blanket and sat a little too close to the flames. She did not seem phased, however, and continued to gaze blankly into the flickering inferno. She looked up and smiled upon Devan's approach. She gestured for him to sit, and he did. Her hair shone a beautiful violet in the moonlight.

"Have you heard of the Lord of Light?" She asked, looking back to the campfire. The light danced on her face, and her visage appeared all the more ominous.

"A little. We learned about it in school, mostly."

"Do you recognize the Lord of Light as the one true God of this world?"

"... Um, my dad didn't raise me to be religious."

"Come, then. Sit closer to me." She gave a warm smile. "I promise I won't bite."

Devan moved closer to her, though he remained at a safe distance from the fire. The flames, which were level with his nose when he sat, were quite intimidating. He was comforted a bit by the nearby ocean, which would make quenching the blaze simple and quick.

"What is your name?" She asked, now looking directly into the boy's face. Now that he was within close proximity of the woman, he acknowledged that she was very attractive.

"Devan Seaworth. What can I call you?"

"You can call me Melisandre"

"Oh... Is Miss Melisandre alright with you?"

"That's fine." She paused, running both hands through her long red locks and flicking a couple of stray strands into the sand to her right. The blanket fell away from her shoulders and torso, revealing a red t-shirt underneath. Maybe the woman _was_ crazy. "Devan, you seem a bit troubled. Perhaps you may find the solution to your toils in the flames. Look into them, and tell R'Hllor what you would like to know."

Devan eyed her skeptically, but sighed and looked at the fire nonetheless. Thankfully, the wind blew the smoke away from their faces.

"What's been troubling you, Devan?" The boy hesitated before giving his answer.

"... It's my dad. He's been struggling  almost his entire life... He can't read, and just getting by is extremely difficult for him, you know?"

"That's certainly unfortunate, but that is definitely not what's eating away at you, Devan. Now, tell the truth."

"It's... It's selfish."

"R'Hllor will answer to even our most selfish pleas. You can be honest."

"Fine..." Devan reflected for a moment. What _really_ bothered him about his father and Stannis? He wanted more than anything for his father to be happy, because although he appeared so, Devan knew that the man's life was an endless tunnel of stress and worry. He knew that if they were really in love, his father's world would be a much brighter place. So why did he have these feelings of bitter resentment?

"I'm jealous. I'm jealous of Mr. Baratheon, and I'm angry at my dad. They... I think they may be dating or something, and I feel like I've been betrayed. My dad hasn't dated _anyone_ at all, not since he and my mom split. It's always just been the two of us, and I've always been happy. They could start _living_ together, and he'll probably pay more attention to Stannis than me. Plus, I don't like Stannis. He's not very friendly looking at all, and he seems distant and... _Cold_." Devan drew up his knees and rested his chin onto them. Admittedly, he felt kind of stupid admitting that much to a stranger.

"... Will your Red God listen to something stupid like that?"

When he looked to his right, Melisandre seemed almost baffled by his outburst. He wondered if he had said something wrong. Her brow was wrinkled in deep thought, and her elbow rested firmly on her leg, which was hidden under the folds of the blanket that now pooled around her waist.

"Your father and Stannis?"

"Yeah... Do you know Stannis well at all? What's he like?"

"He..." She suddenly appeared forlorn. "He... He isn't a bad man. You need much room in your heart for forgiveness in order to get along with him..." She looked to the boy again, gently sliding a slender finger down his cheek. Her attention then returned to the fire, and a wide smile spread across her face, as if she was viewing something spectacular.

"Look into the flames, Devan. Can you see the Red God's gift to you?"

When he did as he was told, his heart nearly stopped. He saw images flickering in the fire, visually clear but vague in meaning. The figures, he recognized all too clearly, but he could not recall the event occurring in his own mind.

"Are you seeing the good work of the Red God?"

"I am. This can't be the future now, can it?" He couldn't mask the awe in his voice.

"It is. And how do you feel, boy?"

_"Enlightened."_

\--

"Shireen is still asleep on the couch, but I can't seem to find Dev anywhere." Davos wasn't panicked, but he did feel guilty about his ignorance regarding the whereabouts of his son. He didn't want to inconvenience Stannis by making the poor man assist him on a manhunt.

"Should I wake Shireen up and ask if she knows where he went?" Stannis suggested while organizing their papers neatly on the table.

"No, you can leave her be. I'll call him, and if he doesn't pick up you can wake her."

To his relief, Devan picked up his phone shortly after Davos had voice dialed.

"Hey, Dad."

"Where the hell _are_ you, Devan? We were worried about you! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Dad. I'm at the beach down the street. Its not far. I can be back in less than ten minutes."

Davos let out a sigh. Sometimes his son was so utterly unpredictable.

"Come back now, then. We have to head back home soon."

"Alright. Also, I saw the most amazing thing ever just a while ago! I'll tell you about it when I get back."

"Alright, Dev." Davos hung up and went to help Stannis organize.

"He alright?" He asked simply, not bothering to look up from the task at hand.

"He's fine. He said that there's a beach down the road that he went to visit."

"Oh, yes. Shireen goes there a lot when it gets hot out. It's safe, so you shouldn't have to worry about him."

A jolt of complete shock shot through Davos when the other man put a hand on his. He allowed his shortened fingers to entwine themselves with Stannis's slender digits, and for some time, they remained just like that, not speaking, but feeling.

"Stannis... Is it alright if I..."

Stannis nodded after a pause, and Davos almost immediately seized his face with both hands, planting an aggressive kiss onto his lips. This time, Stannis did not hesitate to let Davos into his mouth with his tongue. Davos did nothing to stop the wanton moan that welled in throat before getting lost in the other man's mouth. It hadn't been long since the two hat met for the first time on that subway, and yet being with him felt _so right_.

Stannis appeared almost light headed when they broke the kiss, but Davos decided that they wouldn't end it there. They had a minute or two to spare before Dev's return, and he intended on seizing every remaining moment and making them his own.

Davos grabbed both of Stannis's wrists with his good, pinned the bewildered looking man against the table with his arms above his head.

"What the hell are you-?"

He was silenced by another kiss, this one violent and needy as it was passionate. Stannis gasped when Davos bit down on his bottom lip. He could feel his pants growing tighter with every passing moment. He trailed more kisses along his jawline and slipped his short fingers under the waistline of the man's pants. Stannis was biting his lip and his eyes were shut, and that was almost enough to send Davos over the edge.

"Davos... We should stop..." Stannis moaned, and Davos took his hand off of his hipbone and released his wrists. Stannis stood and stretched, rubbing his back. Davos wondered if he had hurt him in any way.

"Sorry, did that hurt?"

"A little uncomfortable, but it was fine." Stannis then flicked his eyes to the bulge in Davos's pants.

"You know, you might want to-"

"I know, I got it..." Davos really didn't know how he would get rid of his boner. He wanted to sit and cool down, but he also wanted to help Stannis clean a bit more. Oh well. He figured the issue at hand was a bit more important. He put his head down on the table and listened to the heightened sound of his breathing.

"Do you still want to go out this week?" He asked while observing the man finish his task and pull up a chair to sit in.

"Sure, why not. When were you thinking?"

"I want to see you soon." He answered a bit too quickly. Stannis gave him an almost amused look.

"We see each other on the subway several times a week, Davos."

"But that's not-"

Devan strode into the room then, an excited grin spread across his wind-reddened face. Davos immediately stood, not entirely pleased at the sight of his returned son.

"Devan, why would you just go out like that? Something could have happened to you out there!"

"It was fine, all I did was go to the beach. I met that woman we ran into this morning, Miss Melisandre. She was so goddamn _cool_ , Dad! She showed me the power of the Red God!"

Davos looked to Stannis, who actually looked like he was physically pained by the exchange. He made eye contact with Davos and cleared his throat authoritatively before speaking up.

"What did she show you, Devan?" The boy almost looked stunned as he looked at Stannis, and his hands seemed to shift uneasily within his pockets.

"She told me not to tell anyone. I have to let fate and R'Hllor do their work, and what I saw in the flames will become a reality." Davos didn't think he had ever rolled his eyes that hard in his entire life.

"Whatever, Dev. Let's just go, we need to get back home. Mr. Baratheon is tired. Go grab our dish from the refrigerator and let's get going."

"Alright..." His son trudged out of the room dejectedly, and Davos was left to wonder what had gotten into the kid since their late lunch. He would ask about it on the train ride home.

While Devan retrieved the leftover food from the kitchen, Stannis and Davos exchanged goodbyes, and Davos promised to call him so that they could plan a good and formal date. Stannis made it clear that he didn't like crowds, loud music, or public displays of affection. Davos made it clear that he had never been much of a party guy in the first place.

They both made it clear that there were to be no debates regarding who paid for the date. This time it would be fifty-fifty.

\--

"Dad, my friend Sansa invited me to go up to her house in Winterfell to ski with her family during the vacation. Is that alright?" Devan's heart pounded in his chest as he waited for an answer from his father. He felt that he had put the man through quite a bit in the past few hours, so the possibility of rejection still floated in the air. He looked out at the passing nighttime scenery of the Crownlands. A woman sitting almost directly across from the two was sound asleep, her head bobbing with every bump of the train. It seemed a whole minute had passed before Davos answered.

"Sansa who?"

"Sansa Stark."

"... Stark... I know that name... Oh, like Ned and Catelyn Stark?"

"Yes, Dad. She's their daughter." Davos snorted,

"How the fuck did we end up mixed up with all these important people? Yes, you can go. You can borrow my long-distance subway pass. When do you plan on leaving?"

"... I don't know. I'll text her in the morning, before I leave for my game."

"Alright. Is Gendry giving you a ride?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And don't forget to text that girl, or you're not going North."

"Okay..." The two sat in silence for a few minutes. "Dad?"

"Yes, Dev?"

"Do you love Stannis?" Devan didn't look at his father's face after the question was posed, but the man did hesitate before answering.

"I do... And he loves me back, I think... Are you alright with that?"

"It's fine, Dad. As long as you're happy." A pause. "I think he's going to make you really happy."

Davos smiled and ruffled his son's messy hair.

"Thank you, Dev."

As he drifted off to sleep, Devan gave a silent thanks to the Red God. He knew that from that day on, he would have more faith in the probability of miracles.

 

****  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head, the modern AU North is just Northern New England (New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine) bc i think they'd be really similar. Well, I mean as similar as our world and Westeros can get.  
> Also, a little SN: Stannis can recite Julius Caesar in its entirety by memory but does not remember who Sal is when he reads Dav's text. Classic Stan!  
> Thanks to shoujo for proofing. Thanks for the reactions too. I love 'em.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of filler before the big night! Enjoy!

"When are we going to hang out, Dav?" Sal asked, his voice vibrant and full of life. Davos was glad to hear the usual, not stressed, drunk or hungover Salladhor.

"We can as soon as you tote your ass over to Westeros, Salla." Davos replied, holding the receiver between his shoulder and ear as he practiced his writing. "Dev just left for Winterfell with a friend an hour ago, and I can take a day off this week. You just need to get out of that Braavosi shithole."

Sal laughed. "It would be from one shithole to another, man. Don't pretend Flea Bottom is a utopia compared to where I live. I don't give a shit about your beef against this city, I fucking love it. Hear me, squab? I love it."

"Come on, Sal, we're not young or wild or free anymore. Don't you think you should get out of Braavos and settle down somewhere quiet?"

"Here we go," The Lyseni breathed, not even bothering to mask his disappointment. "Now that you've gone and got yourself a man, you're going to try and push your married lifestyle on me. Don't lose yourself. Stay single at heart."

"You're crazy, Sal..."

"You'll see what I me- _shit_ , I almost fell down the fucking stairs, Dav. So when can I meet Stan?"

_"Stannis."_

"Stongis, Stebbis, whatever. When am I going to meet him?"

"You can if we decide to see each other this week. We're going out Wednesday night, but I can probably convince him to take a day off tomorrow I suppose. Maybe you can meet then... I'm not sure though, Stannis doesn't seem like the sort of guy who takes many days off of work. And I think he has class, too..."

"I'm going to be blunt here. I don't _really_ give a shit as to whether or not he can make it as long as we get to catch up. I haven't been to King's Landing in a year." On the other side of the line, Davos heard a wooden door creak open. In a way, Davos was envious of the man. He wasn't rich, but he certainly made enough money off of smuggling to live very comfortably. Sal's Braavosi apartment was small in size but lavishly decorated with trinkets and ornaments from his home, Lys, and other places he had visited on his shady excursions. Davos found himself wishing that he were there, instead of alone in his messy apartment. Sal's place always smelled nice, and Braavos was often a bit more lively than King's Landing during the winter.

"I've run out of _Cheese Nips_ , Davos. The Red God hates me... But yes, I can dock in King's Landing tonight if you're willing to let me stay at your place for a couple of days."

Davos rolled his eyes and laughed.

"You really think you can sail from Braavos to King's Landing in a day, Sal?"

"I know I can! It's only what, seven in the morning-"

"It's six here."

" _Exactly_. Give me twelve hours. I'll be at your place before you can even get home from work. You'd better believe I'll be waiting for you on your couch, lights off, candles lit, and my huge, throbbing-"

"That's enough, Sal. I have to go off to work now. Good luck getting into my apartment... Goddamned delinquent." Davos hung the phone up before another word could be uttered by his friend. He immediately wondered what Stannis was up to, and whether or not he was already at work. He wouldn't be surprised if he had already been there for some time. He wondered if he'd pick up his phone if he called.

Davos stood in the hallway outside of his apartment door, tapping away at his phone and making a painstaking attempt at searching for Stannis's contact. It was true, he didn't have a list of contacts worth boasting about, but it was large enough to frustrate the man. He tried tapping the search bar with his thumb, and the accursed keyboard appeared on screen.

It took him a moment, but after typing "St" (the phone tried to correct it to St., but Davos didn't know what that was all about), only a single contact remained. Davos hoped to the gods that it was the correct number.

The phone rang a few times before the man picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Stannis. It's Davos."

"Oh, good morning."

"Good morning. What's up?"

"I'm just at work, going over some information and whatnot."

"You _are_ at work this early? _Gods_ , Stannis!"

"Well, to be fair, I don't _have_ to- Samwell, just leave that next to the keyboard so I won't forget about it. No, the other side. Thank you. Sorry, Davos. I was saying that I prefer to come into work early when I can. I get more done, and I don't have to worry about these people bothering me every ten minutes."

"Oh, that's good."

"So, are you at work right now?"

"I can't use my phone at work.To be honest, I can't do anything but lift fucking boxes. I'm on my way to the subway station. Just leaving the apartment now."

"You know I can help you with job applications if you need it. I can write you a letter of recommendation, if you'd like. I have time to kill before other people start arriving."

Davos made his way down the stairwell, praying for the cell signal to remain strong. Stannis's call hadn't dropped by the time he had gotten to the first floor of the building, which was a blessing.

"Sorry, I thought I was going to lose the signal. But I couldn't ask you to do that, Stannis! I mean, between you and me, I have no redeeming traits. Besides, I've been rejected by more jobs than I remember applying to."

"Davos, you have plenty of redeeming qualities. My biggest concern is your limited past work experience. Is this the only job you've ever had? I mean, besides..."

"No, I've worked as a busboy before, actually. They also let me be a bouncer at a club in Braavos before, but it was only for two nights..." Davos didn't bother looking before he crossed the road to the subway station. Not many people in his neighborhood used cars, anyway.

"... Well I suppose that's enough to start building a résumé. Unless you have one already?"

"No..."

"Well you should definitely have one. In fact, I'm surprised you haven't needed one yet. Most jobs require them, you know."

"I guess we can get that done one day. Well, Stannis, I'm going to be boarding the subway soon. I'll talk to you later."

"Alright, goodbye." Stannis was the one to hang up the phone, and Davos sat on a platform bench, sorting through his papers. He really felt he was getting the hang of reading, less so when it came to writing but he was still making progress. He actually found typing quite enjoyable, though the Common Tongue had so many rules that caused the auto-correct to kick in about every other word he typed. It helped it a lot, to be frank.

Every few days Davos would take time to pick through _Animal Farm_. He had restarted the book, and found that his pace was a little less sluggish, and he was able to understand a lot more than when he had tried self-teaching. The previous night, in the solitude of his son's absence, he had tried his hand at freewriting with a spiral notebook he had picked up from the 99 Stag Store. He had only gotten a few words in, but the pride that he felt when Stannis had only made one correction was unlike any other feeling. He took his notebook out of his backpack and read his work over and over again.

_My name is Davos Seaworth, and my story is unlike any other._

That sentence had taken him almost an hour to write. He had corrected it on his own several times, reviewing in his head the grammatical rules that Stannis had laid out to him. The paper was torn in several places from the hard erasing. The only change that Stannis had made to the sentence was the addition of a comma.

His train arrived, and he got up a little too quickly, nearly spilling the sheets of paper that rested on his lap. The sight of the train reminded him of his son. True, Devan was a high schooler now, and he was level-headed enough to keep himself out of trouble, but he couldn't help but worry. He didn't even know who the Starks were as people, and he couldn't help but think about the possibility of him getting into a skiing or snowboarding accident.

Never before had he let his son go off on his own on such a whim. He hoped that the Seaworth's bad luck did not follow him on his journey.

\--

Devan and Sansa sat side-by-side on the nearly empty subway car, scrolling through Vine videos together and laughing. He was having more fun with Sansa than he had ever had with many of his other friends. She was mature, charming, and outgoing. Most of Devan's friends, who were boys, we're not charming or mature in the least. Devan thought that this was a good change.

Eventually, the data connection was lost, and the two took out the headphone set they were sharing. Sansa sent a quick text. It was probably for her girlfriend, or mother.

"So," She began while Devan watched the flurries of snow hitting the window of the fast-moving train. They hadn't officially crossed into the North yet, but he could see that the towns were more widespread, and the snow had begun to fall more heavily. Through the opposite window, Devan saw cars and trucks speed up the Kingsroad Highway, the longest highway in the continent.

"How's it been between your father and Mr. Baratheon? " Oh. Devan had nearly forgotten about that whole ordeal. He thought of Melisandre and the visions in the flames. He wondered if Sansa worshipped of the Old Gods, as many native Northerners did.

"It was weird as fuck, I'm not gonna lie, Sans. I... I _think_ I'm alright with them. I met this woman - Stannis's neighbor - on the beach, and she told me that he isn't a bad person at all. We actually talked for a while and he really does seem like an okay guy." Devan had been prepared to tell her about them flames, and R'hllor, but decided against it. He held his tongue. Some things were better off left unsaid.

"That's great, Dev! I'm glad you came around. I think it'd be best if you got along. My brother- half-brother, I mean - Jon doesn't get along with my mom, and it really takes a toll on both of them. I feel really bad for Jon, especially. It'd be good if you and Mr. Baratheon got along well."

"I guess I've only met the man once. Plus, I think he and Miss Melisandre may not get along. He was in a bad mood when we got there, and she had been leaving his house. He looked mortified when I told them that we'd been talking."

"See, Dev?" She smiled, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "Sometimes, you have to give people chances. Obviously, if your dad likes him, he's a nice guy."

"Yeah, I guess... We're going to be on this train for a fucking long time, aren't we?"

"Yes. I'd say about seven more hours, at least. At least we're comfortable." She put her head down on the table before them, playing with the ends of her hair.

"Don't these kind of trains have dining compartments?"

"Yes. Were you paying _any_ attention at the beginning of the trip? They made it clear, for one, and there are literally signs _pointing_ towards the direction of the car."

"Sorry. Was basically asleep then. No offense." Devan stood and looked around. He was actually stunned that they were alone in the car. He'd expect a lot of travelers to be heading North for the holidays. Then again, it was still Winter, and people sought warm paradises, such as Dorne or Qarth.

"Sans, want me to play some music? There's like, nobody in here to complain about it."

"Sure, if it's good music. Do you mind if I browse your library?"

"Fine... Don't judge me, though."

As she did so, Devan thought to himself for a while. He dwelled on his life and how strange it was. He was only fourteen, a freshman in high school, and yet he had filled out more checks, forms and other things he didn't think he'd have to worry about until he was about eighteen. He didn't like to admit it, but it was stressful and frustrating. His father really couldn't leave the house without him. Before, friends had helped him, apparently, but had gotten fed up after a while.

"You have weird taste, Dev... Half of these songs I don't even recognize."

"What about the other half?"

"The other half I like. Sort of." She smiled and played a track. It wasn't one of his favorites, but it was a great song nonetheless. As if they were on the same page, the turned the volume down so that they could still converse over the music.

"Sansa, can I ask for your opinion on something?"

"Yeah?" Once again, he was prepared to spill everything. He was prepared to tell her about his feelings regarding his father's inability to function as a normal member of society. He trusted Sansa. She gave excellent advice for a girl her age. It was fascinating. However, for some reason or another, Devan felt that revealing his true attitude make him seem even more selfish, so he held his tongue.

"Um... How's snowboarding? Like, what's it like?"

"Oh, I'm not a snowboarder. I prefer skiing, but both are really fun. Just ask my brothers or sister about boarding, if you're interested."

"And you're sure I won't die?" He asked, thinking of the snow capped death mountains that he often saw on TV.

"Sure," Sansa replied dangerously. "If you don't go down the mountain with my siblings."

\--

People began arriving while Stannis still sat, staring blankly at a job listings website. He was in deep thought, and hadn't done anything more than occasionally blink for quite some time.

He was thinking about Davos. Getting this man a good job would be extremely difficult. If Stannis was able to tutor him well enough, he could possibly obtain a GED and go on from there. Having a high school diploma would be enough to expose the man to a few new windows of opportunity, but Stannis couldn't help but wonder if it would be enough. Nowadays, one can't possibly achieve success with just a high school diploma.

He considered the possibility of paying for Davos's education himself. He thought of going to Robert for some money, but Stannis didn’t think he had it in him to stoop to such a petty level. Finally, Stannis let out a light sigh. He would resolve this all when the time came. For now, he would work on their textbook.

"Wow," Sam said in awe. "I thought you'd up and fossilized, Mr. Baratheon! You didn't move a muscle for ten minutes!"

"I was thinking," Stannis replied plainly, his brow wrinkling in frustration.

"I see." The boy smiled and returned to his work. Sam also enjoyed coming into work early on days he had class, and Stannis swore that he got more work done during that early morning slot than most of the lazy people who worked at the company full time. It was almost sad.

Stannis minimized his window and opened the draft for the page he was reviewing. After a few minutes of reading the same things over and over and making change after change after change, the man found that his mind began to wander. He had a date in two nights. It was his first date in an embarrassing number of years, and he didn't know he'd _do_. Davos had decided on the plans, and though the other man probably thought he'd appreciate the mystique of it, Stannis didn't like how _vague_ he had been. He had told Stannis that they would meet at his apartment in King's Landing, and then he would handle the rest. Stannis didn't like the idea of their outing being unorganized in any way. There were many chances for the night to go awry.

However, he had found Davos's early morning phone call to be pleasant. The two hadn't actually called each other for the sake of just chatting before, and it was pleasing to know that Davos had been thinking of him in the morning. The corner of Stannis's mouth twitch, and he used a balled fist to cover it up.

"Mr. Baratheon. _Stannis._ " Shit. Stannis snapped out of his thoughtful state once again.

"What is it, Samwell?" He snapped, shooting boy a quick irritated look.

"Gods, I'm sorry, Mr. Baratheon. It's just that you don't seem focused at all. It's not like you." Well, it was true.

"It's nothing. I just have a lot on my mind."

"Would you like me to take over for you if you're having issues? Is it serious? I can do your work for you if you show me how many pages you plan on looking at today." Honestly, this kid was a bit too nice to be true. Stannis found it endearing just as much as he found it annoying.  

"I'm fine. It's not serious at all."

The two continued to work in silence. Stannis, dissatisfied with his lack of focus and progress that morning, worked through his usual lunch break, in the end getting more done than he had originally intended. He was proud of himself, and decided that he would stop working a few minutes early. He was glad that the questions from co-workers had been minimal that day.

As he was gathering his belongings, he noticed that his phone light was blinking, and he didn't think that he had missed a call. Shireen knew better than to call him during work, and he knew that nobody texted him. Ever.

That being said, the surprise that he felt when he saw that the text was from Davos was... Almost alarming. He never imagined he'd receive so much pride from reading a text message. It showed that he was a successful tutor and that Davos was a fast learner.

_\- Hi stannis whats up. Sal was going 2 meet u 2moro fuck that word. But he has an op 2 do in the Summer Islands_

_Huh. Alright. And it's spelled 'tomorrow', by the way._

_Stannis received a response as he was zipping up his coat and heading out of the building's glass doors._

_\- Nice. I will keep that in mind. Can I just call. This is so tiring. U have class?_

_Sure and yes. You're doing a great job with spelling, though._

_\- Thanks. Its autocorrect._

Davos soon called, and Stannis picked up after he had crossed the street. His university was a thirty minute walk from his job, but instead of taking the train as he usually did, he decided to search the town for a quick bite to eat. It was cold, and the darkness of the early winter night as well as the urban draft did nothing to make it better. However, his lack of lunch and consumption of only black coffee for breakfast left him feeling rather famished.

"Hello?"

"Stannis! Are you walking to school so that you can talk to me? I didn't really think about you having to use the subway." Davos sounded both apologetic and excited.

"No, Davos, I'm walking because I want something to eat. The world doesn't revolve around you, you know." Stannis was only half-joking when he said this, but naturally, the other man was unable to tell at all. So Davos laughed.

"Are you sure about that? Something tells me you're looking for a nice outfit to wear on our Wednesday outing. I'd really like to see you in something other than a turtleneck." Impulsively, Stannis tugged at the neck of his turtleneck. He loved turtlenecks and hated shopping.

"We'll have to see about that..."

"Alright. Just keep in mind that turtlenecks are much harder to pull off in the heat of a moment." God... Stannis could practically _hear_ the wink in that. His skin prickled. So Davos was planning for them to have sex, wasn't he? Stannis didn't want to dwell on the thought too much.

"... Sure. About that-" At that moment, some person who was also busy chatting away on their phone nearly rammed into him. They gave Stannis a poisonous and foreboding look, and the man glared back with equal hostility. People seriously needed to pay more attention to where they were walking.

"Sorry, Davos. Some idiot nearly ran me down in the middle of the sidewalk."

"It's fine. Anyway, what were you saying before?"  
  
"What I was trying to say is that... Hold on, Davos. I need to sit somewhere." He looked up at the sign for the café he was passing. It was a sandwich shop, relatively crowded but not enough for Stannis to feel uncomfortable. He entered the shop and took a seat at the cleanest looking table. Though only a few crumbs littered the shiny wooden surface, Stannis still wiped them away with a napkin. Part of him wanted to file a complaint about whoever supposedly cleaned up around here.

The social buzz of the restaurant's atmosphere was loud enough to ensure that nobody would eavesdrop on his conversation. He began to speak again.

"Davos, I'm not sure how comfortable I am with, um... _Sex_..." He said quietly, glancing around him for nosy people. Nobody seemed to care about his presence. That was good.

"Why not? I mean it's fine and all, but I'm just curious." Stannis could hear the surprise in the other man's voice. "Is it because I'm a man?"

"Not necessarily... I just never found it enjoyable. I don't remember a single time in the past where sex didn't feel like a chore." Stannis made eye contact with the employee glaring at him judgmentally. He'd have to order soon, or he'd probably be kicked out. He got up to join the ordering line, phone in hand.

"Stannis, are you alright? Would you like to talk about this some other time?"

"I'm fine. We can keep talking. I'm just in line waiting to order dinner."

"Hm. So when we made out the other day, did you feel anything? Like, physically?"

"I did, I think. That was actually the first time I'd felt anything like that in years."

"Gods, Stannis. Well, that's fine. I'm willing to do anything as long as you're comfortable, you know."

"Thank you, Davos. I... I really do appreciate that."

"No problem. Now, you said you were in line for something? I should hang up." Stannis's heart sank in his chest. He wanted to keep talking, but doing so would be nothing but awkward and inconvenient. Plus, he had class to get to soon. He liked arriving early to review information.

"Alright. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I'm looking forward to Wednesday."

"I am, too. Seeya, Stannis." He hung up and put his phone in his pocket. Relief washed over him suddenly, though Stannis wasn't aware that he had been worried in the first place. He had secretly been dreading telling Davos about his feelings regarding sex. It's not like he was exactly against doing it at all. He just felt that when it came to him intimacy, a certain trust had to be built.

Before he knew it, it was his time to order. Stannis hadn't even decided on what he wanted to eat.

\--

Being home alone was strange. Without Devan's company, he felt completely alone for the first time in long while. Sal had blown him off for a smuggling operation in Lys, Devan was up in the North having dinner with the Starks, and Stannis was in class, working towards becoming Dr. Stannis Baratheon. He had spoken to Devan during his lunch break, but the boy had seemed hasty to end the conversation. It was understandable.

He wasn't in the mood for studying. He was burnt out from another hard day at work with the lovely Sandor Clegane, and to make things better, his boss had checked in on them to oversee their work, and Davos had made another blunder with the boxes and his short fingers. He wanted a new job desperately. He wanted nothing more to be part of the professional working world. He wanted stability and comfort in his life.

Davos sighed and turned on the television, opening _Django Unchained_ , which he had recorded. He got up, turned the television towards the kitchen, and started rummaging the freezer for some sort of meat to make a meal out of.

While opening up a small bag of rice, he thought back to his conversation with Stannis. In a way, he felt sorry for the man. A lifetime of bad sex! Davos thought that to be a nightmare.

Davos actually hadn't _really_ planned for them to have sex on Wednesday. Those sort of things were not meant to be planned, but happened spontaneously. He had only been joking when he had brought up Stannis's turtlenecks.

On the other hand, he almost couldn't wait another 48 hours to go out with Stannis. He had a very romantic night planned, thanks to his acquaintance Xaro Xhoan Daxos, a man he had met back during his smuggling days. He planned on buying himself some nice pants, and a nice bottle of wine for Stannis, even though he didn't drink. Tomorrow, he'd spend his entire evening cleaning up his apartment. He would probably have to go to the laundromat later that night. He and Devan's clothing were still littered about the apartment like decorations. It was pathetic.

Davos finally gathered enough ingredients to make himself a meal. As his pan covered on the burner, he took some time to sit back on the couch and attempt to sift through some emails. He knew that most of the things he received were annoying news alerts, most of which he had his son delete. These companies were so annoying.

However, as he scrolled through said alerts, one particular grabbed his attention. Baratheon, it read, and Davos immediately tapped on it.

"Baratheon... Robert and K... _Cersei_ Baratheon... In... Incest Scandal." He read aloud quietly. "Holy shit... That's actually kind of funny." He wondered if Stannis knew about this. He really didn't feel like picking through the article just to figure out what had happened, so he took the time to search for videos discussing the incident. He found only a couple that had been posted mere hours in the past.

Apparently, Robert's children weren't his, but the product of his wife and her twin brother's incest. Davos was stunned by the news, and already anticipated the shame and anger that Stannis would feel upon hearing the news about his family. He considered sending the story to Stannis via text, but thought it better if the man found out for himself. Plus, Davos had no idea how to put an article into a text message. He wasn't necessarily tech savvy.

A little while later, Davos sat lazily on his couch, eating his dinner and finishing _Django_. He wished he had the ability to put subtitles over the movie so that he felt he was being productive. He sighed. Ever since he had become involved with Stannis, he felt as if he had been spending more and more frivolously. He sincerely hoped that this month's spending wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

\--

The last thing Stannis expected to see that night was Cersei Lannister standing at his doorstep. She wore her long blonde hair in a neat high ponytail, and stood shivering in a white coat, pricy looking jeans and a pair of white high heels decorated with gold. It was not an ideal outfit for a winter night on Dragonstone. He had no idea how long she had been standing there in the cold, or why she was even at his house. Something told him it had to do with Robert.

Upon Stannis's approach, the woman seemed to harden, uncrossing her arms and marching angrily towards him. She had eyes set to kill, and a strange and mild fear rippled through Stannis like vibrations in a bell.

" _You,_ " She hissed, and Stannis stopped cold in his tracks. What in the seven hells was going on here? "You told them, didn't you? You _had_ to go and make my _children_ the hot topic of the Seven Kingdoms, now, didn't you?" He was too bewildered to even respond at first. He voice was filled with more abhorrence than he had ever heard expelled from her. She seemed to be on the verge of tears, but he knew well that she would not let a single drop fall.

"What the hell are you talking about, Cersei?"

"Do _not_ play dumb with me, Stannis. I took the filthy subway to this place because I knew it was you - you're a jealous, bitter person. You've ruined my life, my brother's life, and Robert's career because you're hateful. And what have you gained from it?"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." Stannis began to grind his teeth. "Besides, why the hell would you come all the way to Dragonstone for this? Why not call, like a normal person?"

"Because that would be cowardly. I'm not about to confront someone over fucking _phone_ like a little bitch. I prefer doing this face-to-face. Now tell me Stannis, what did you do? What was your little plot? I'd love to hear it."

Stannis tried his best not to groan. It was cold, he was tired, and he had an essay that needed to be proofed and submitted. He didn't have time to argue about... Whatever Cersei was even talking about.

"Cersei, you will either explain to me what happened or get off of my property before I call the police." Cersei was quiet as she answered.

"Stannis. I am accusing you of telling the media that my three innocent, lovely children are incest babies, and that I've been fucking my brother Jaime for years." Stannis almost smirked. He had already suspected that much. On the other hand, he definitely had not let the media know that that was indeed the truth. How could he possibly stoop that low! Stannis not only was a respectable man, but he was thankful for all that his older brother had done for him. There was no way he would resort to such petty means of revenge.

"Look, I promise you I did not tell anyone a damn thing about your kids. It's none of my business in the first place. It sounds more like a political thing if you ask me." He stated firmly, quite anxious to enter the warmth of his home and talk to his daughter. Cersei looked him up and down warily, as if doubting his honesty.

"Well, Stannis," She finally scoffed, hoisting up her purse and straightening her back. "If this is true, I'm sorry to have bothered you. But if you're lying to me-"

"I'm not, Cersei. Please go home. I have nothing to do with whatever mess is going on in King's Landing... And tell Robert to leave me out of this."

"Of course." The woman gave a tired looking smile and trodden down the path best as she could in her heels. Stannis hoped that she didn't break an ankle on the way down. She would most likely file a lawsuit.

After paying Cressen his money for the day and getting Shireen off to bed, Stannis finally got the chance to sit down in his warm study and begin revising the final copy of his essay. However, he just couldn't resist the temptation to do a bit of web browsing. He didn't want to be left in the dark about whatever was going on with his brother.

An hour later, Stannis was still scrolling through pages of text, trying to find the name of the politician who had tarnished his family name. Apparently, Westeros was in an uproar about the entire affair.

Two hours later, Stannis was asleep at his keyboard, his essay untouched.

\--

Davos woke up with a snort when his phone had begun buzzing on his chest. Fuck, had he fallen asleep on the goddamned couch? His eyes flicked to the digital clock on their little coffee table. It was a little past 5:30AM. Who the hell was calling him? He was still disoriented from sleeping in the wrong place.

His thumb slid across the screen to answer the call.

"Hello...?" He asked, his voice groggy with sleep. He really didn't feel like being awake.

"Davos, I'm ruined..." It was Stannis. Come to think of it, that would make sense. He seemed like the type of guy who would

"What do you... _Oh,_ you mean the thing with your brother and his wife? I'm sorry."

"You know about that, too?"

"Everyone in Westeros knows."

"Gods... Davos, last night I spent so much damn time looking shit up about that that I fell asleep on my computer. My essay was due at midnight. I've never in my _life_ missed a deadline. And for such a stupid reason, too. What was I thinking?"

"It's not the end of the world, Stannis-"

"I spent two months on this paper, Davos. I purchased a book on High Valyrian complex sentence structures just so that I could work on this paper. And I blew it. I'm going to have to take time off work to finish this. What have I done, Davos?" Davos genuinely didn't know how to respond.

"Umm... Well, do what you can. It's okay to take off from time to time, you know. Take today and treat yourself."

"... I suppose I could do that... I'm sorry for bothering you so early in the morning."

"It's all right. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm just very disoriented... I shouldn't have sent Shireen to bed that early. She could have woken me up if she had noticed..."

"Stannis, don't be like that. Email your professor, take some time to work on your paper, and calm down." Davos was wide awake now. He attempted to lift himself off of the couch and ended up getting a cold handful of last night's dinner. Great way to start off a day.  
  
"Thank you, Davos. I'm most likely going to put my phone away while I work, so you won't be able to call during your lunch break. Good luck at work today."

"Good luck on your paper. I hope your professor understands." Stannis hung up first, leaving Davos alone in the dark, gross squishy food covering his palm. He felt sloppy and nauseous.

After a long shower and a bit of cleaning up, he definitely felt better. He decided to skip out on breakfast, but stopped at a nearby Dunkin' and bought some black coffee for a little energy. While sitting in the desolate restaurant, he texted Devan best as he could without any of his study materials.

 ****_Having fun?_  
  
_\- dad, it's 6am. why r u up?_  
  
_You're a cheeky little monkey you are, a cheeky cheeky little monkey so are you so you are xxx_

_\- wtf_

_Devan._

_\- sorry, dad_

****  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm sorry for the lateness of this chapter! i had a huge problem writing it, and to be pretty honest im still not 100% liking the way it came out.  
> I actually considered just adding on to this and making it a super-chapter to avoid this one being a filler but I just decided to keep the chapter length somewhat consistent.  
> Anyway, thanks to shoujo for the encouragement and praise for this chapter and thanks to my readers for sticking with my writing this far! I REALLY appreciate it! <3  
> also i LOVE my mommi cersei and had to put her in this fic


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it! This is it!

Stannis looked ridiculous. He looked like a fool. But if this was how people enjoyed dressing nowadays, so be it. Frankly, the only person's opinion he gave a damn about was Davos.

He had finished and sent his essay by midday the previous day, and had taken Shireen out so that she could help him choose clothing for his date. He would have preferred to wear a turtleneck under a blazer, but even the little girl had sniggered when he uttered this. _Apparently_ , she had said, he looked like "Steve Jobs but with nicer shoes". He honestly didn't know whether or not the comment was meant to be offensive.

That being said, Shireen had tugged Stannis into three different stores, pointing out what would look sharp and yet casual at the same time. She had picked out a v-neck sweater for him to wear along with a loud tie and some nice slacks. Stannis had put the tie back and picked one that was much plainer. He said that it looked more professional, more scholarly. Shireen reminded him that a date was not a professional occasion. He purchased the tie anyway. He quite liked it's silky grey color.

So now, Stannis stood in his bathroom mirror, fiddling with his tie and collar. Everything had to crisp, symmetrical, and clean. Stannis must have spent ten minutes ironing his slacks alone. Finally, after he was satisfied with his appearance, he went into the kitchen, grabbing his keys, cell phone, and the Dornish red he had picked up on the way back from his outing with his daughter.

"Shireen!" He called. "We're leaving now."

The girl, who had been on the couch reading historical fiction, most likely, practically skipped into the kitchen, her pink overnight bag slung over her shoulder.

"Alright, I'm ready."

"Do you have your toothbrush?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Your hairbrush?"

" _Yeah_ , Dad. Can we please leave?"

"Alright. Do you have your pajamas?"

 _"Yes, Dad_. Let's _go!"_ She groaned playfully, tugging at the man's neatly pressed sleeve. Stannis smoothed the fabric before handing the paper bag with Davos's wine bottle to the girl.

"Let me hold your bag. You can carry this, but be careful with it, alright?" Shireen handed her father the bag, which turned out to be even heavier than he had anticipated.

"Gods, Shireen, what did you pack?"

"Edric and I are having a movie marathon."

"You packed enough movies to last a lifetime... Alright then. Make sure to take breaks. Don't rot your brain."

"Yes, Dad."

Soon, the two were out the door. The darkness that covered the path from their front door to the street was a bit of a hindrance, but they made it to the bottom all right. The walk to their bus stop was very quiet. On the bus, Shireen tried several times to strike up conversation, but no more than a couple of sentences each were exchanged before she seemed to give up. On the train, both read until their stop. Stannis hadn't been able to return to his book in over a week because of both Davos and his essay, but now that the latter was over and done with, he enjoyed reading it even more. In fact, he believed that there was nothing better than returning to a good book after a short break.

Before Stannis and his daughter exited the car, they swapped bags. Stannis didn't think it would do them any good if Shireen had brought his wine to her cousin's house. It also wouldn't have been the best idea to present Davos with a pink bag filled with girl's clothing and a bunch of animated comedy movies.

Ms. Storm's car was waiting just outside of the subway station, and Shireen gave her father a quick peck on the cheek.

"See you tomorrow, Dad. And have fun."

"I will. Make sure you have fun, too."

"I will! Bye, Dad!" And with that, she was off. Stannis gave Ms. Storm and Edric a small wave of acknowledgement. The woman rolled down the window as Stannis made his way closer to the car.

"Thank you, Ms. Storm. I appreciate you looking after her for the night." She smiled.

"It's no problem, Stannis. These two should spend more time together! We're family!"

 _No, we're certainly not._ Stannis thought.   
  
"That wouldn't be a problem. Anyway, I have to catch the train. Take care." Ms. Storm gave a small wave as she rolled the window back up. Stannis watched as the car drove away, and then headed back into the crowded warmth of the station. By the time he got down to the subway, people were already boarding. Instead of reading as he usually would have, he took out his phone and went over his directions several times. He was definitely on the right train, and he knew where he'd have to get off.

The ride seemed to take hours. Stannis caught himself grinding his teeth as he was sitting back and contemplating, so he instead held his jaw firm and tapped his foot. People all around him seemed to be coughing up a storm, and it nauseated him. He covered nose and mouth with his hand and gripped his bottle tightly. An eternity later, his stop was announced, and he stood up from his seat eagerly. The recent increase in the average temperature around Westeros had brought with it a bug, and the common cold was spreading throughout the Kingdoms like an epidemic.

The horrendous din of the city bombarded Stannis's ears as soon as he exited the subway platform. The smell was even worse. He was reminded promptly of why he detested King's Landing.

The directions to Davos's apartment were clear enough, but Stannis was still hesitant with every turn he took. Something about walking around Flea Bottom under the cloak of night set him on edge, and he suddenly grew wary of every character that passed him by as he made his way through the area.   
  
It took only five minutes for Stannis to reach the apartment. He hadn't been stabbed or _acknowledged_ , even, and began to feel stupid for thinking anything would happen. He entered the building and spent a good two minutes hiking up the stairs to the third floor. Room 304. It would not be hard to find.

Stannis checked his phone again before knocking at the door. After a moment of Stannis doubtfully grinding his teeth, Davos opened the door with a wide grin.

"Hello, Stannis."

"Hi. Sorry I'm late. Had to take Shireen to meet up with her cousin."

"That's fine! You actually came a lot earlier than I expected. Uh, you can come in. It's really messy. Dev and I aren't very neat people." Stannis entered the apartment to find that the other man had not been lying.

Piles of poorly folded clothing were situated on the couch and floor, while some used plates still sat on the table, crusty with food residue. A single lit candle filled the room with a sweet scent. The  room was like a _Febreze_ commercial.

"It is messy..." Was all Stannis could say in response. Davos let out a snort of a laugh.

"It's usually a lot worse! Since Dev's gone for the week, it's only me making all of this mess. Plus, I went to the laundromat yesterday. Be thankful all those clothes are clean."

"Well, would you like some help cleaning up?" Stannis offered. He really wasn't in the mood for cleaning, but at the same time, the mess practically _screamed_ at him for help. Davos gave him a look of amused disbelief.

"Are you crazy, Stannis? We have to go! Just let me get some shoes on. Davos went on a pursuit for his shoes, and Stannis waited patiently in the studio's half-kitchen. He spotted a can of anti-roach spray, and his eyes automatically scanned the room for signs of... Pests...

Davos finally seemed to find both his shoes and his coat, and after a moment, he joined Stannis in front of the door.

"This is for you, by the way." Stannis handed the now heavily wrinkled brown bag containing the Dornish wine, which the other man accepted hesitantly. "And don't tell me that I didn't have to buy this. It's the least I can do since you're the one taking me out."

“Thank you, Stannis. You look good, by the way. Why don't we go?" Davos placed the bottle next to the stove and then held out his arm. Stannis looked at the bent arm, and then at Davos's face, and after a moment, he finally looped his arm through the other. It was strange. He had never done this kind of thing before.

Arms still linked, the couple made their way into the chilly streets of King's Landing.

\--

"They're probably fucking." Robb Stark and his half-brother Jon began to snicker. Devan groaned and leaned back into the mattress behind his head. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his father's sex life. The last thing _anyone_ wants to talk about is their parents' sex life. It was a taboo subject, and yet others often felt compelled to bring it up for the sole purpose of arousing discomfort from others. It was evil.

 _"Robb!"_ Sansa exclaimed, slapping her brother gently on the arm. "Stop making Devan uncomfortable!"

"We're just messing with you, Dev." Robb reassured him, firmly patting the younger boy's shoulder. "We always know when our parents want to fuck, anyway. It's actually pretty funny."

"Yeah," Jon added, his dark eyes crinkling with slight amusement. "Whenever Dad and Catelyn want alone time, they hustle us all off to stay with friends. If one of us wants to sleep at a friends' on a Friday, we _all_ have to find people to stay with. They're not very good at being discreet." All four kids laughed at that.

"Yeah, that's pretty funny, but I'm gonna be honest and say I'd rather be left in the dark about my dad's sex life." Devan said, releasing an exasperated sigh. "Can we change the subject, now?"

"Sure," Robb replied. "Who's this guy your dad's seeing?"

"Man, fuck you..." Devan kicked the older boy in the calf.

"It's Stannis Baratheon," Sansa stated, twisting her long red hair in her fingers. Ever since they had arrived at Winterfell, she had begun wearing it down, instead of the updos commonly worn by women in the South. "He's Uncle Robert's younger brother, you know."

" _Gods_ , Sansa." Jon said, rolling his dark eyes. "Please don't call him that."

"Why not? Dad _said_ to call him that." The girl crossed her arms defensively.

"It's weird. He's not even related to us. And last time I recall, you didn't like him in the first place."

"I know, but it's... It's polite." The girl said, and Robb snorted.

 _"Polite,_ Sansa? He's not even here! Who cares?"

"I do!" She slapped her brother again, this time a little harder. Robb just laughed and lightly ruffled her hair, and she fixed it back almost immediately afterwards.

"Anyway," Jon continued, seemingly amused by the exchange. "What's he like?"

"You guys don't know him?" Devan asked. He had half expected them to know the man better than he did, since Robert Baratheon was apparently their father's closest friend.

"No, Mr. Baratheon never talks about him, really. He doesn't like his brothers very much at all." Jon said.

"Didn't he buy one of them a mansion? And pay for the other to go to college?"

"Well, yes. But you have to remember that the man is both the founder and CEO of a large company as well as a politician in the making. The man has more money than he knows what to do with, so why not just spend it on his only family, you know? It makes him look like a moral and preferable candidate."

"I see..." Devan pondered for a moment, and then a spectacular thought dawned on him. An amazing, _selfish_ thought. "You know what I just realized?" The boy exclaimed, fixing himself so that he was sitting up straight again.

"What, Dev?" Sansa seemed a bit shocked, and her two older siblings were clearly curious.

"I just realized that if... Oh. It sounds really... Fucking stupid... Nevermind."

"No, go on!" Sansa urged, her blue eyes shining with wonder. Devan continued with a nervous smile.

"Well," he began. "If my dad ends up, uh, moving in with Stannis, we'd get to live in their mansion on Dragonstone! We'd finally be able to get out of our little apartment in Flea Bottom and live in luxury... That'd be so cool... But it also seems kinda wrong to think that way... Like, superficial kinda..."

Robb scratched at his mustache, pondering for a moment, but it was Jon who answered first.  
  
"Implying they get to that point in their relationship."

His half brother and sister frowned at him, but the boy only shrugged.

"I'm being realistic here. Things can always change for the worst in the future. People's emotions are extremely fluid, you know."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Jon." Robb punched his brother's bare arm. "Quit being fake deep. Anyway, Dev, I don't really think your thinking is superficial. It's a possible reality, really. I think you've gotta keep the dream alive, young man. You have to be your dad's support. You have to be his little rock. You have to be like the pioneers' rock from _Spongebob_ , and guide him-"

" _Alright,_ Robb..." Jon cut in. "Gods, who's being fake deep now? What time is it, anyway? Mrs. Stark said that we have to pack up to go to the ski resort at 5."

Sansa checked her phone.

"It's nearly ten to 5 right now. We should get ready."

So the four stood, somewhat shaky from sitting on the floor for such a long stretch of time. Robb and Sansa were the first to leave the bedroom, while Devan and Jon both hung back. Devan checked his phone for texts from his father, and was disappointed to find none. He decided he would text him on the drive up to the ski lodge.

He peered at the other boy, who was also on his cell phone. He and Robb were both seniors,  meaning that they were wise, all-knowing. Devan decided to jump on the opportunity to talk to him one-on-one. He found that in the Stark household, one did not get much time alone, or to chat with just one person.

"Jon?" He looked up, not smiling but not unfriendly, either.

"Yeah, Dev?"

"Sansa told me that you and your mother don't get along at all. Is it true?" Devan thought the question to be a bit personal, but he really had no ill intentions. He only sought more comfort for himself and his home life. He hoped Jon would pick up on that. Devan grew a bit anxious when the other boy took a moment to speak.

"She's not my mother, but that's true. Let me guess, you're going to ask about Stannis, aren't you?"

"Yeah, actually. It's kinda fucked how you knew that." Jon laughed, so Devan did too. It was funny how much another person's laughter can affect someone. "I figured that. Sansa told me a bit about it. I mean, Jon, I kinda think I may have jeopardized any chance I had at getting along with him. I feel kind of guilty now, but that night I was _really_ feeling salty..."

"What did you do?"

"I glared at him at dinner. A lot..." It had been more of a subconscious thing, actually, and Devan didn't know he had been glaring until long after the meal had been done.

"I mean, that's not too bad. You don't have to apologize or anything. Just be nice to him next time, and I guess he'll just figure you're moody or something."

"Shit, man, I don't want him to think I'm moody. I'm not moody."

Jon stretched out, and both his arms and his back popped. His grey t-shirt raised to reveal his abs. He was pretty muscular for seventeen. Devan hoped he'd look the same, eventually. He did work out quite a bit for sports, but he just couldn't lose that scrawny little freshman look.

"Sans told me that you were being really moody when you first met him, so you might want to check yourself, Dev." He yawned.

"She told you? Traitor..."

"Sorry. I'll make sure to beat her up for you." Jon slid his phone into the pocket of his jeans and gave Devan a smile.

"I'd just not fret it too much, Dev. Let's get ready to go. I can stay with you on the bunny hill, if you want."

"Thanks bro." Jon gave him a small pat on the back and began to leave the room.

"Hey, Jon?" Devan asked him again. Jon stopped and leaned against the doorframe, looking at him.

"Uh... How do I grow a beard like yours? I can barely spout some goddamn fuzz on my upper lip, and it looks creepy so I always end up shaving in off."

"Well, you're still a freshman, Devan. I'd give it time, little man." Jon went and ruffled Devan's hair just as his father would if he had asked the same question.

He was having enough fun, but at that moment he began to grow homesick.

\--

Davos was the happiest man in the world. He was enjoying just traversing the crowded streets of the downtown area alongside Stannis. King's Landing was a beautiful mixture of refurbished ancient buildings and modern structures. The city's value of its rich history limited the number of skyscrapers that were built, and it's authentic feel attracted tourists in droves year round.

But at that moment, the man beside him was more marvelous than any marvel that stood within the city, from the magnificent Sept of Baelor to the grand castle in the center of the city. He had big plans for their date. It would be simplistic and yet absolutely perfect. Well, he hoped it would be, anyway.

"So, where are we going?" Stannis finally asked him. Davos wanted him to see the surprise for himself. Spoiling it beforehand would ruin the magic of it all.

"I can't tell you. You'll like it though, I promise." The two walked several more blocks before Davos finally stopped.

"Alright, here we are!" He saw Stannis gaze up at the brightly lit name of the building.

"... You took me to a _hotel?_ Davos, we've discussed this!" Davos was alarmed at his distress. If anything, he had expected the man to be delighted at the grandeur of the hotel. It was easily one of the nicest in the city. _Then_ he remembered their little over-the-phone dinner chat.  
  
"Oh, no! I'm not... I didn't bring you here so that I could pound you in the butt. Follow me." Davos gestured and Stannis did follow, though he seemed a bit skeptical at first.

When the two stepped into the foyer, Davos was glad to see the amazement glistening in those blue eyes of his. It was a gorgeous lobby, adorned with luxurious furniture, expensive looking mirrors, metallic fake plants in fancy Dornish vases, and gorgeous tiling. Davos strode to the main desk and was surprised to find that there was no line despite the influx of vacationers.

"How may I help you, sir?" The small young woman asked.

"May I please speak to Chef Daxos?"

"Of course. One moment, please." The girl picked up the phone and punched in some numbers. Davos looked to Stannis and grinned.

"How much did this _cost_ you, Davos? You really don't have to do all this for me."

"Oh, not much. Xaro is actually an acquaintance of mine. He wanted to do this for free, but I would never do that to him."

"I thought we had agreed to split the-" Stannis stopped talking when Xaro entered. He was a tall Summer Islander with a diplomatic air about him. He did not smile, but Davos knew that he was in fact a kind man.

"Hello, Davos." Davos and Xaro shook hands firmly. "Follow me."

The two followed the man to the elevator.

"Anyway, Stannis." Davos began, trying hard to avoid the awkward silence experienced by most people riding elevators. "This is Xaro, an old friend of mine. Xaro, this is Stannis." The two shook hands and exchanged nods.

When the elevator arrived on the top floor, all three exited, and Xaro led them up another short flight up stairs leading to the hotel's roof. He unlocked the doors with a key and left Davos and Stannis alone, promising that their meal would arrive shortly.

Davos took Stannis's hand into his left and led him to a table. The white tablecloth flew lightly in the breeze, and Davos noticed that Stannis’s shoulders were hunched.

"It's pretty cold up here, Davos." He complained, and Davos rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, it's not that bad! You'll be fine once the food gets up." Davos pulled out a chair for Stannis, and the man sat, hands bunched in his pockets like a Dornishman on business in the North. Davos had to admit that the sight was pretty amusing. It honestly wasn't very cold at all.   
  
"I'm sorry." Davos apologized. "Is the weather a mood-killer?"

"No, not really." Stannis quickly replied. "I'm fine. Regretting not bringing gloves, though..."

"Take your hands out of your pockets and hold them out to me." Stannis gave him a questioning look before he did. Davos smiled and took Stannis's hands in his own again. They had touched hands a lot tonight. Davos loved it. Stannis seemed like a cold man, but his touch was the warmest he had ever encountered. He watched the other man avert his gaze as Davos began rubbing the warmth back into his hands.

"That better?"

"My hands were fine in my pockets, you know..."  
  
"I'm sure they were." A moment was spent in silence, Davos staring straight at Stannis while the other man tried hard to look anywhere but back at him. He considered calling him out on it, but he concluded that making him uncomfortable wouldn't do him much good. So he left him alone.

Soon, Chef Daxos wheeled out their meal; two soups, two entrées, and two desserts. Both men thanked him as he poured their water, and Xaro told them that they could leave everything up here, and that the staff would clean it all up before morning.

Davos, who had skipped out on eating a proper lunch, dug in almost immediately. Stannis sat there, eyeing the spread before him. He seemed to be thinking pretty hard. Davos put down his fork.

"What's on your mind?" He asked.

"Oh, nothing important... I just remembered something from a long time ago..." He finally looked up at the man, a small smile on his face. Davos's heart nearly melted at the sight.

"Something good, then?"

"Well, I remember Shireen used to put on 'puppet shows' for me. She used to take jump ropes and tie them around the necks of her stuffed animals and dangle them from the side of the stairwell and made them dance. It was... Pretty morbid now that I'm thinking back. Maybe that's why I thought they were funny." Davos laughed.

"You know," He started, leaning back in his seat. "I remember Dev had this little game called 'walk the damn plank' when he was little. Got it from those pirate shows... He used to take his little action figures and and big bowl of water and have them line up and drown..." Davos stopped for a moment. He considered talking his other kids, but thought it best for himself not to bring them up. Thinking about them still brought him so much grief, though he did his best to hide it. He had such clear memories sitting down with his sons and asking them what was on their mind when they seemed troubled. Doing this with Stannis filled him with a strange sort of nostalgia, the kind that ate away at his heart but comforted him at the same time.

"Shireen used to play a game called 'guillotine'... She put her Barbie and Disney dolls on trial, and then decapitate the guilty ones publicly. She was so young, too." Stannis paused, and a dismal looked washed over his face. It aged him."Shireen is such a good girl... Smart, too. I'm so proud of her, but I don't tell her that as much as I should. I just... I'm not very comfortable with being affectionate, if you know what I mean."

"Stannis, she knows that you appreciate her already. I saw it just the other night, that girl loves and respects you. Don't worry about it at all." Davos was being completely honest. Even when Stannis clearly didn't want to be bothered, and shooed the poor girl away with irritation, he could tell that she obeyed out of respect. Otherwise, she looked like she was always happy, and no child that had an unloving parent would act that way.

"Davos?" Stannis had finally begun eating his meal. "Does Devan hate me?"

Davos, completely surprised by the question, nearly choked on his mouthful of water.

"What would make you think that, Stannis?" He genuinely had no idea what the man was talking about. Davos thought back to Saturday, when he and the boy had met for the first time. Had he been so wrapped up in seeing Stannis that he failed to acknowledge his own son's feelings?

He remembered the boy excusing himself from the dinner table. He had seemed a little upset...

"Oh..." Davos said before Stannis could even answer. "Do you mean dinner the other day?" Stannis nodded.

"He was glaring at me while we ate."

"You know, going back home on the train that night, Devan asked me if I loved you.” Stannis seemed a bit shocked by the statement, his eyes darting up to look at his questioningly.

“... What did you tell him?”   
  
“I told him that I did. I love you, Stannis. I really do.” Stannis’s expression softened, and Davos smiled. He was feeling unusually emotional that night. Stannis, who was now looking anywhere but at Davos, hesitated before responding.  
  
“I… I love you too, Davos.” Davos could have broken out in tears in that moment. Stannis’s voice had gone so soft with genuine emotion that he had the urge to kiss him right then. But he didn't.

“So yes, I told him that I loved you, and I think I asked him if he was okay with that."

"What'd he say?"

"He said he was. I was really relieved, you know. I didn't know whether or not Dev was the jealous type. I haven't seen anyone since I left Marya, and I hadn’t really thought about it in a while... But if you think he was jealous, I think he's over it now. He texted saying that he hopes we have fun."

"Did you text back?"

"I did!" Davos announced proudly. His ability to read and send texts got faster each day. Though he often had to sound things out loud, autocorrect usually brushed up on his spelling for him.

"What'd you say?"

"I said, 'oh, we will' with a little winky face after it." This time, Stannis was the one that nearly choked.

"You really sent that to him?"

"Yeah." Davos went through his phone and presented the text.

_O we will ;)_

"And you say those kind of things to your son?"

"Yeah, I mean, he's a teenager now. And he knows not to take me too seriously." Davos smiled and tucked his phone away. Stannis raised his eyebrows.

"Wow."

\--

As the night went on, the two seemed to find infinite things to talk about. The spoke of coworkers, family, friends, books, and movies. Stannis found himself going on about some excellent analytical essays he had read online, and had ended up giving Davos enough book recommendations to last a decade. Davos expressed that he was excited, and that he would certainly get to reading his books once he got good enough to do so. Stannis told him that he expected it not to take too long.

Their meal long consumed, the two got up and leaned on the rail at the edge of the building, observing the bustling city below. From that height, the orange streetlights and white car headlights were beautiful. The gorgeous Sept of Baelor could be seen illuminated with artificial light so that its details could be seen at night. They admired its grandeur.

"You ever been there?" Davos asked Stannis. Stannis was staring into a tall office building in the northeast. He could see people busy at work inside of their cubicles. It was too late to be working, even by Stannis's standards. He respected them.

"...What'd you ask?"

"Have you ever been to the Sept of Baelor?"

"Oh. No. Shireen's been there for a field trip, though."

"We should go there sometime. It's beautiful." Davos took in a deep breath. "It's a pretty big tourist attraction, but just as many people use it to pray, too. Do you worship the Seven?"

Stannis thought for a moment. He didn't really know. Back when Melisandre was in his life, he had thought that the Red God was the true God of their universe. However, the importance of faith began to fade out of his life along with his connection with the woman, leaving him clueless as to what he believed anymore.

"I don't. What about you?"

"No. Dev and I aren't religious at all, but I still took him so that he could know the history and significance of it all."

"That's great, Davos. You and your son seem very close."

"We are."  
  
Stannis felt himself grow warm as Davos pulled him closer. He expected to be kissed. In fact, he wanted it very much, but Davos just held him close for a few minutes, looking out at King's Landing much like an explorer looking out at the vast land he had just discovered. Then, finally, after Stannis had lost himself in his own wandering thoughts, Davos turned to him and gently held his chin with his nubs. This time, however, Stannis was the one to lean in for a kiss, which completely took Davos by surprise.

The way Stannis kissed was very tame. He tried hard not to be sloppy with his mouth. He didn't want to disgust Davos or anything. Then, after a bit of time, became apparent that Davos really didn't want to kiss him in such a neat fashion. His fingers dug deep into the sleeves of Stannis's thick coat, and he could feel the other man's body taking control. Stannis relaxed and allowed Davos to take over.

Stannis had no idea how long they had stayed on that roof, just kissing each other. All he knew is that he didn't want it to end. He could feel Davos grow more needy and desperate with each passing moment, and soon their kiss had to be broken for good.

"We... Should go back to my place." Davos said. His voice sounded nervous in a lighthearted kind of way. "I mean, if that's alright with you."

"Yes, that'd be-" The buzz of the vibration from Stannis's cell phone cut him off. Who the hell could that have been? He took out his phone and was shocked to find that it was his older brother, Robert.

Stannis did not answer his phone.

Before they left the rooftop, he left a rather generous tip under a plate. Davos took his hand, and a joyous feeling rushed through the man like a bubbling pink spring. He felt youthful, cheerful, and rather disappointed about completely missing out on this aspect of his teenage years.

Once back at Davos's apartment building, the two almost couldn't resist one another. Davos pressed Stannis against his door, planting sloppy kisses on his neck. Stannis pushed him off, frowning and flushing.

"Davos, not out here, for God's sake!" Stannis snapped. He wasn't angry or anything, but the possibility of being seen was too great to take such a risk.

"Sorry..." He muttered, fumbling for his keys. The door was open in a short moment, and soon Davos had kicked the door shut, already stripping off his coat. Stannis kind of stood there awkwardly, holding his shed coat. He felt his heart beating in his chest, his ears, his brain, and for a moment, reality itself seemed to blur while he was lost in a state of disbelief. He knew damn well what his body wanted. He felt a desire for Davos that he hadn't felt for anyone... Possibly in his entire life. He was nervous because this was all new to him.

Davos took one look at him, and seemed to remember himself.

"Oh, sorry, Stannis." He took the man's coat, which he sort of folded in half and threw over the sofa. Stannis could have done that himself.

"Now," He continued, his voice taking on a concerned tone. "Tell me how you feel."

"Feel about what?" Stannis knew what he was talking about.

"You know what I'm talking about." Stannis took a moment before answering.

"I’ve, um, decided that I do want to have sex with you, Davos. But I set the rules, alright?" The change in Davos's expression was almost enough to make him laugh. It was the kind of face a kid made when their parent let them buy junk at the grocery store.

"Alright, let's hear it then." Davos smiled and sat on the couch. He didn't seem troubled by the fact that he was sitting on his clean, folded clothing. Stannis went to sit next to him.

"Nothing weird, please... Not yet. And we have to use lubricant."

"Keep it vanilla?"

"... Sure..." There was an awkward pause, and Stannis felt himself growing more and more uncomfortable. Maybe he was making a mistake... It was then that Davos kissed him again, and Stannis felt his hands move to press against his chest, feeling with a newfound desire. The other man pushed Stannis back so that his head rested against the arm of the couch, all the while hungrily kissing his neck and jaw. Stannis let out a breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he felt Davos's body pressed against his own. He could feel that Davos was already hard, though Stannis himself was taking a bit of time.   
  
Davos began to lift Stannis's sweater, so Stannis sat up to make the task easier. Davos physically frowned when he saw the button-down and the tie underneath.

"I'm gonna need help with this... Sorry, Stannis." He admitted, holding up his shortened fingers with a sad smile. Stannis found it somewhat funny, and grinned as well. He undid his buttons as Davos worked with his tie. The clothing articles were cast to the floor, revealing the t-shirt underneath. Davos pulled that off to find that Stannis was also wearing a wifebeater. The look on the man's face registered almost hilarious bewilderment.

"How fucking _layers_ do you have on, Stannis?" He asked, stunned and amusement. 

"The house was cold today..."

"The turtleneck would have come off faster. You're dressed for a business meeting beyond the Wall." He grumbled with false frustration as he helped the man remove the article of clothing. Stannis unbuckled Davos's belt and hung it over the head of the couch. Davos then cupped Stannis's face in both hands, kissing his lips again. Wow. This man sure loved kissing.

Stannis had to bite back a groan when Davos used his good hand to grope him through his slacks. He felt the unmistakable heat of an erection in his crotch, and  closed his eyes in hopes of heightening the sensations that he felt. Slowly but surely, Davos undid Stannis's belt and pulled down his slacks. His boxers were so plain it was actually kind of humiliating. He added newer, nicer boxers to his mental shopping list.

Despite the apartment being a literal boiler, Stannis felt cold once his boxer shorts were pulled down. He considered asking if they could move this to the bed. Plus, he felt that they were a bit too close to the edge of the couch for him to be comfortable.

"We should do this in bed instead." Davos paused and then sat up.

"That's a good idea..." He stood, and Stannis sat up, pulling his boxers back up and his pants from around his ankles.

Davos went into the bathroom and began rummaging through the cabinet, while Stannis observed the section of the apartment where he and Devan slept. There were two full-sized beds separated by a partition in the middle. One side of the partition was significantly messier than the other, but other than that, there were no indicators as to which side was Davos's.

"Dav," Stannis called. "Which side is yours?"

"The window side." The man called back. "Hey, I'm not one hundred percent sure if I have any lube. It's been a couple of years since I've had to bust it out."

"Take your time."

“Wait. Stannis?”  
  
“What.”

“You just called me Dav, didn’t you?”

“I believe I did. Do you not like that?”  
  
“No, I love it! You’re adorable.” Stannis huffed. He certainly wasn’t adorable. He sat on the man's bed, which was surprisingly neat and clean. Somehow, he felt awkward just sitting there in his underwear. He looked out at the street through the lightly curtained window. A young couple walked along the sidewalk, hand in hand. For the first time, he could feel what they felt.

He had known Davos for such a short while, but the connection that he felt with the man was realer than anything he'd ever felt. He didn't feel the dread and sense of duty he had often felt before sex. In fact, he was surprised to find that he was quite eager. He hoped their conversation in the sandwich shop hadn't made Davos nervous. Stannis thought that this was like attending a social. You feel nervous before entering, but once settled in, you settle down.

Davos finally returned, and Stannis was relieved to see that he had a bottle in his hand. He probably would have preferred the man to have a condom...

"I found one, luckily. It's probably ten years old, but it'll do. Can't go bad, can it?"

"Don't think so..."

Davos got under the light bedsheets and blanket, and Stannis followed suit. Instead of attacking his upper body with scratchy beard kisses, he immediately removed Stannis's boxers. Stannis was flaccid after waiting so long without stimulation. Davos took his dick into his right hand, the direct contact making him start. His hand was fucking cold. It took him a moment to relax into the touch.

Davos then coated his palm with some of the lube and began running the tips of his shortened fingers along his cock much too gently. The teasing frustrated him, and the other man was showing no signs of applying more pressure. Stannis propped himself onto his elbows, grimacing.

"Davos."

"What is it?" He taunted, looking up at the man with a smirk. Stannis didn't like that face.

"Stop teasing." The smirk widened, and Davos feigned thought for a moment.

"Hmm... I don't know. I think I'd rather do this for a while."

"You seemed eager to get right into this back on the couch." Davos gave a little squeeze and Stannis inhaled sharply, his eyes closing tightly.

"Yes, that's true," Davos agreed, moving his hand down to tease his balls this time. Stannis bit his lip. Davos's hands were still ice cold. "But I realized that we have all the time in the world to do this. Might as well take it slow."

"I have work tomorrow. And school."

"Take a sick day tomorrow. You'll need it."

"But school-"

"You'll need it. Trust me." Davos gave another tight squeeze, and Stannis gritted his teeth.

 _"Stop_ that, Davos!" Davos smiled, clearly stifling a laugh. What a goddamn sleazy...

The man repositioned himself so that he and Stannis were level, leaving the other with nothing else to do but look right into his eyes. His head sunk into the pillow. He seemed to melt as Davos regarded him with both tender passion and sultry desire. He let out a breath when he felt Davos begin to properly stroke him. Just as the eye contact had begun to get a bit uncomfortable for Stannis, Davos lowered his lips onto Stannis’s own. With a guttural moan, Stannis broke their kiss and clasped the fitted sheet with a grip like iron.

Stannis began to needily thrust into Davos's grip, craving the amazing sensation that it brought him. The bed rocked with a steady _creak_ of springs. Stannis was lost in his own thoughts, thoughts that his own brain could not decipher for the life of him. All of this felt so fucking amazing. He thought that he was thinking, but at the same time, he felt that he couldn't think at all.

When Stannis came, he bit his lip so hard he thought he tasted blood. Sweat beaded his brow and his breath came out in breathy little puffs. Davos backed off and sat up, hastily removing his boxers and releasing his neglected hard-on. He smiled as he coated himself with the lubricant.

"You came pretty fast." He teased. Stannis slapped his hand over his sweaty face.

"Shut the fuck up..."

When he and Davos finally made love, Stannis really did feel like it was the first time. All his life, he had felt like a virgin, a mockery of a man due to his lack of a sex life. Now, he felt true love and felt truly loved.

Later, the wetness of his body glimmered in the moonlight like droplets of rain on a car window. He lay curled against Davos, both his body and his mind content. He should have been tired, snoring away like Davos was to his side, but his mind was buzzing. He pulled the covers higher onto his body and mentally planned his next reading lesson with Davos.

 ****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so excited about writing this chapter! the date scene was actually loosely based off of a cool experience I had with my family a few years ago. we went up to Boston for a little Independence Day day trip, and we met this guy who worked for a real nice hotel. since he and my dad are both Haitian, he was like "i'll unlock the roof for you nice people lol" and yeah we ate our Mike's cannolis on the roof and saw fireworks for miles!!! including the Boston Pops which was sweet  
> Anyway  
> Aren't you glad I got a little fucky-fucky in this chapter? I sure am. Plus Devan and Stark banter.  
> Thank you for reading and thanks to shoujo for proofing!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davos goes to the store, a giant pizza is introduced into the story, and our boy Stannis finally gets a bit more backstory.

Currently, Davos was a high-spirited man with a ravenous appetite. The recipe on the box had called for one cup of mix per serving, so naturally, he doubled it. He now had a stack of about nine pancakes, and many more were on the way. He hoped Stannis liked pancakes. Who didn't?

On another burner, he was brewing some strong tea that Sal had purchased from some strange place in some foreign land. He found that without sugar, it went well with anything and everything sweet.

Only a mere few feet away, Stannis was sound asleep on his bed, a light and steady snore audible from where he stood in the kitchen. It was rather late in the morning, and Davos had thought about just waking the man up, but then considered the possibility of awakening the demon. Stannis didn't seem like much of a joy to wake up, so he just left the man alone. He'd be up soon enough.

Davos was scraping the last bits of batter into the pan when the Stannis begin to stir on the bed. He could hear the deep groan Stannis emitted, and he found it pretty funny. He really hadn't shown the man much mercy when they had gone at it the previous night, and Stannis was probably feeling the aftermath of it all.

"Morning, Stannis!"

Stannis just grumbled, forcing Davos to neglect his progressing pancake feast and make his way to the bedside. He took the drowsy man's hand into his own and rubbed circles in it. Stannis just leaned back onto the wall, his eyes closed and his brows furrowed in either pain or frustration. Perhaps it was both.

"How're you feeling?" Davos asked, genuinely concerned at this point.

"Alright. It's just... It's just my-"

"Your ass, right?"

"Yes... Have you ever, um..."

"Taken it up the ass?" Stannis nodded, and Davos actually had to think for a moment. "Yeah, actually. A girl pegged me once." Upon hearing this Stannis opened his eyes and gave Davos a look.

"Oh... Did it hurt afterwards?"

"It hurt a lot, actually. Neither of us knew what we were doing. There was no lube and definitely not enough stretching was done beforehand." He laughed softly. "I can find you some painkillers. At least to take the edge off."

"Thanks. You have aspirin?"

"Only Tylenol."

"Anything to alleviate this ache..." Stannis sniffed the air. "You making pancakes, Dav?"

"You've got an acute sense of smell, Dr. Stannibal Lecter." Davos responded with a smile.   
  
"It's burning."

Davos shot up and quickly made his way back to his kitchen, flipping over the half-raw pancake and revealing its blackened south side. He sighed. He hated wasting food, but was left with no other choice than to toss it. Besides, still had plenty of the damned things to spare.

"I really hope you like pancakes, because I damn near made enough to feed everyone in the apartment complex twice."

"They're satisfactory from time to time. I haven't eaten a proper breakfast in a while."

"Good. I'll bring some over. I made some tea, too. It's really good." Davos stacked four pancakes onto a plate and brought it over to Stannis, making a second trip to bring him the tea, pills, and syrup.

"Thank you," Stannis said with what Davos considered a small smile. He brought his own food over and settled down alongside him under the covers. They ate in silence for a while before Davos decided to break their little moment of individual solitude.

"How long you plan on staying here?" He asked. He was quite honestly dreading Stannis’s departure, which would surely signify the end of one of the most important days of their blossoming relationship, as well as leave him home alone for the next day. If only he and Stannis could have a few days together, under the same roof, learning more about each other while separated from the reality outside. Stannis probably had plenty of vacation days under his belt. He'd have to convince him to use some during the kids' annual long break.

"I have to pick Shireen up from her cousin’s tonight." Stannis glanced at Davos's face, his eyes scanning the man's clearly disappointed expression. His eyes darted to the side as he searched for the right words.

"It wouldn't be right if I asked Ms. Storm to watch over Shireen for another night. I _would_ enjoy spending more time with you, though." Stannis scanned the floor below, and then placed his plate down. Davos did the same. He was already pretty full after eating six pancakes, meaning their surplus would have to be wrapped in foil and placed in the freezer. Devan definitely wouldn't have to worry about breakfast for a while.

Davos wrapped an arm around Stannis's shoulder, pulling him in close for a kiss.

"Looks like we'll just have to make the best of these few remaining hours we have together." His hand moved to Stannis's thigh, which he gave a firm squeeze. Stannis looked at him, his expression registering disquietude.

"Davos, I'm still... I don't think I'm ready-" Davos silenced him with another kiss on the lips. He wondered if kissing Stannis too frequently would desensitize him somehow. He adored kissing this man.

"Hush, Stannis. How would you feel about a blowjob for now?"

"Davos, I'm- _Fuck..."_ Seeing Stannis absolutely melt from just a single touch send the blood rushing from his head. He rolled himself over him, lowering his head so that he could gently bite Stannis's neck. A moan escaped Stannis as Davos's teeth sunk into the soft warm flesh, his breath coming hard and slow. His growing erection pressed lightly against Stannis's thigh, and it took all of his self-control to keep himself from rutting against it. He felt Stannis's hands grip his sides needily.

Davos moved down to bite Stannis’s shoulders, then trailed aggressive kisses along his collarbone and up his neck. He knew that leaving marks would never be a problem for Stannis. Davos found that he was thankful for Stannis's turtleneck infatuation.

Davos had begun working his way down Stannis's torso when the sharp buzzing of a vibrating cell phone sounded from near the couch. Stannis's eyes shot open, and Davos was forced to cease contact.

"That's my phone,"

"I'm aware." Davos replied, hoping to the _gods_ that he would leave it be.

"I need to answer that."

There were no gods. Davos rolled himself off of Stannis's body.

"Do you have to? Because I'm rock hard over here." Stannis rolled his eyes and got out of the bed, making his way to the designated living room area. Davos watched him closely. He had a nice, toned body that made him green a bit with delayed envy.

"I have to answer it. Could be Shireen." He found his phone then, and frowned at the name on the screen.

"Shit..."

"What?"

"It's Robert..." Stannis swiped the screen, then held the device between his shoulder and ear as he picked through the various articles of clothing for his own. He found his boxers and pulled them on with a bit of difficulty.

"Hello, Robert." Stannis's voice was flat. Davos sighed to himself. He was still painfully hard, but he knew that he would have to wait a while for Stannis to return to bed.

He just hoped he wouldn't be too damn long.

\--

They were trying so hard to do it. They were trying so _incredibly_ hard to do it. Initially, it hadn't seemed like much of a challenge. There were three of them, and one of it. They'd definitely have an advantage. Strength in numbers, right?

Well, it turns out that statistics are complete bullshit, because Devan, Sansa, and Arya could _not_ finish that pizza.

"There's so little of it left..." Devan groaned. Not only did he feel like his heart rate had decreased to 10 beats a century, but he also felt that all of the grease from the pizza's surface had transferred directly onto his skin. It would do nothing to help with the smattering of acne on his cheek, that was for sure.

"We'd be able to finish this if _Sansa_ hadn't refused to eat more than one slice!" Arya snapped accusingly at her older sister. It _was_ true, but he couldn't blame the girl for being health-conscious. He commended her self-restraint, in fact.

"Shut up, Arya." Sansa snapped back. "I don't want to eat it because if I do I'll get fat like you."

"I'm not fat! I'm good at sports and fighting, too. You just do your stupid _yoga_ and call that a sport. You're going to get fat off of lemon cakes, anyway." Devan rolled his eyes.

He and Sansa had wanted to go out and get lunch alone. They had spent half the day on the bunny hill and felt that they deserved it. However, Arya, wanting to spend more time with Devan, had asked if she could tag along, and Mr. and Mrs. Stark had happily consented to the arrangement. So, as a result, Devan was left to listen to the girls bicker all afternoon whilst pretending to care enough to take sides on each matter. Times like these made Devan realize that Sansa Stark was not the totally mature, level-headed girl he thought her to be. It was actually pretty amusing.

He looked down at the remaining four gargantuan slices of meat-heavy pizza. The only thing keeping Devan from eating this entire Northman's Challenge was the peculiar fullness of his stomach. He cursed the damn thing for choosing not to be a bottomless pit on the wrong day. He wondered if The Red God would bless him with a nice, wholesome, belly-emptying burp soon. If they finished that monster of a dish, their pictures would be placed on the Wall, the restaurant's bulletin board of fame.

Devan was sick, however. He was sick of listening to the girls fight, and he was physically sick to his stomach. Worst of all, he was homesick. He missed his father terribly.

"Sans," He interrupted, cutting the girl off while she was explaining quite angrily to her sister the health benefits of hot yoga. "I need to go and digest a bit. I'll try to finish this steaming circle of bread-crusted shit when I get back. Try not to kill each other." Devan then rose and went out the front doors of the parlor.

 _"Oh, gods..."_ He breathed, a cloud of frozen particles leaving his lips. Perhaps it was his frustration manifested into physical matter. The boy leaned against the brick wall and removed his phone from his pocket, dialing his father's cell phone number. He wanted to at least leave a message. However, he was surprised when the phone was answered instead.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey, Dad."

"Dev, how are you? How's the North treating you?"

"It's all great Dad, but I wasn't expecting you to pick up. I thought you'd still be working."

"Oh, I stayed home today." Devan let out a burp, albeit silently. Now _there_ it was.

 _"You,_ Dad? I don't think I've ever heard of you taking a day off, except for that time you got the flu. Why now?"

"I had a rough night, is all. I'm tuckered out." Devan frowned, his thick eyebrows furrowing with concern for his father.

"Did everything go alright with Stan- sorry, Mr. Baratheon?" He asked carefully, not wanting to know _too_ much about the previous night.

"Everything was perfect. I just drank a bit too much, is all. Don't worry, Dev."

"That's good." The two chatted for quite a bit of time. Devan told Davos all about the North, and how bitterly cold it was. He told him about the Stark's six pet direwolves, and the old castle where Mr. Stark worked, and about the little rivalries within the family. He told of Robb's funny friend Theon, of Jon and his friend who supposedly worked with Stannis, and of the boy's daredevil girlfriend from Beyond the Wall. Most of all, he talked about snowboarding at Queenscrown Resort. They would be visiting the Wall the next day. Devan was excited about getting to walk along the top and see the view.

"That sounds amazing, Dev..." Davos said distractedly from the other side of the line. They were both quiet for a moment, and Devan thought he could hear faint shouting through the receiver.

"... Is that Mr. Baratheon?" Devan raised a brow though he could not be seen. He hoped to _God_ Robb's jests hadn't manifested themselves into some sort of nightmare.

"Y-yes, it is..." The man stammered, clearly caught off guard by the question. "He, uh... He had too much to drink also. He needed to crash here for the night." Devan frowned. Stannis sure as hell didn't sound very hungover.

"He didn't sleep in my bed, did he?"

"No. Definitely not." More silence. Now that Devan was aware of it, he couldn't stop listening to Stannis's raucous rambling in the background. He sounded so bitter, so resentful, so malevolent. It was irritating.

"You're coming home Saturday, right? What time?" Davos asked. Devan actually wasn't quite sure.

"I don't know. I think we're just going to catch the earliest train back. It's a long ride, but I'll call when we pull in."

"Alright. Have fun. Take pictures!"

"I am. They're on my Instagram. I'll show them to you when I get home."

"Good. I'll see you then."

"Bye, Dad." Devan hung up the phone and peered back into the restaurant. Sansa was busy on her phone while Arya seemed to be toying with half a slice of pizza. The burp along with standing in the brisk chill for fifteen minutes had stirred up his usual appetite. He was filled with renewed vigor. He would go in there and win those girls that minor recognition they so deserved. It's what they had payed 45 dragons for, after all.

None of it would go to waste. Not a damn morsel.

\--

"You know," Stannis seethed, scratching at the hairs on his chin and trying very hard to keep his anger under control. "I'd much prefer to discuss this matter face-to-face. Would you be willing to do that?" The man spat the word "willing". He glanced quickly at Davos, who was also on the phone. The sight calmed him a bit.

"No, Stannis. Not right now. I'm hunting." Stannis clenched his jaw and strongly resisted the urge to grind his own teeth to a pulp. This phone call was rekindling the deep-seated malevolence towards his brother that Stannis had stowed away for the better part of a decade. Was there truly a more infuriating man in Westeros than Robert Baratheon?

 _"Hunting,_ Robert? What do you mean by that?"

 _"I mean,_ Stannis, that I am sitting in the middle of the fucking Wolfswood with my gun at my side, wearing my camo, eating a sub and drinking some beer." Stannis gripped his own face and took a deep breath. This _man... This dim-witted excuse for a human being._

"You call everyone for the first time in ages to ask a favor of me, and yet you haven't even begun to deal with your own damn dilemma?"

"See, _this_ is why you're always a last resort. All the stuff I've done for you, and all you give me is shit."

"Robert, you know damn well you could care less for me. What you do for me is really all for you. I'm going to go ahead and guess that you contacted Renly before you even thought to call me, but he was too busy getting... _Slammed_ with his frat boys, or whatever that boy does at his overpriced university."

"Renly does well enough," Robert snapped. "He said he didn't want to. That was it, Stannis. He said 'no' and he hung up the fucking phone. Why in the seven hells didn't you pick up last night? _You_ know damn well all you do is work and study your stupid little books."

"And all you like to do is get piss drunk in your own living room, half-ass your job, and turn your nose up that the blue collar workers that toil every day for _your_ betterment in society. I'll have you know that I was busy with personal affairs last night, and had no desire to deal with the nonsensical drivel that spurts from your mouth whenever we converse. At all."

"Fucking drama queen..." Robert mumbled hotly. "All I need from you is an answer, Stannis. Will you _at least_ do that for me?"

There was a pause before Stannis cleared his throat and spoke.

"Remind me of what I would be required to do if I accepted your petty request." His brother sighed, only irritating Stannis further. Did this man want his help or not?

"All you'll do, Stannis, is put out a public statement confirming that I was completely oblivious to the illegitimacy of Cersei's children, and that the news of her relationship with her brother came as a huge shock to me." Stannis was stunned. Surely Robert was joking. The man was an idiot, but he wasn't _stupid_.

"Are you kidding me, Robert? Why would the public give a damn about anything I say? One of your words is worth ninety of mine. Why not just put the statement out yourself?" Stannis glanced at Davos, who was eyeing him warily. He was reminded that this was in fact an apartment, so he would probably need to keep his voice down. Stannis felt angry enough to punch something.

"You don't think I've tried that already?" Robert roared, forcing Stannis to remove the phone from directly on his ear. "They won't fucking listen to me! They claim that they've always known. Apparently they've always fucking seen it, but what the hell do they know, the bastards! Did you know?"

"Well, yes. I was sure of it. Everyone was, but we needed the confirmation."

 _"Shit.._. Stannis, I really need you to put out that statement. Renly's denied me, Stark wants nothing to do with any of this, Cersei refuses to speak to me, Jaime won't answer my calls... And I'm your brother." Stannis wet his lips, thinking to himself for a moment. Was there really anything to be gained from lying to an entire nation? Would he choose brotherhood over morality and honor?

"I may do it." Stannis concluded. "Under one condition." Robert groaned.

"... What do you want?"

"I want to inherit the company once you retire. It's that or I hang up the phone and leave you to wallow in your self-pity and regrets."

 _"Are you out of your fucking mind, Stannis?_ My company is _Renly's_ future. _He's_ the heir. How dare you even suggest I take that away from him?" There was a pause, and Stannis heard gulping. The man had better not get drunk while hunting like he did the last time. He wondered if that Lancel kid had recovered from the bullet he had taken to the arm.

"You have a job, you have the home that I _bought_ for you, and you have a good education. You don't need this company. Besides, you're not a good leader." Stannis narrowed his eyes and bit his lip.

"I'm certainly a better leader than _you_ , Robert. I say you let me have this company that you neglect, so that you can go off and prance around with politicians to your heart's content. Corrupt, fat politicians. You'd fit right in."

"Fuck you. I shouldn't have called you."

"You're right. You shouldn't have. Good bye, Robert." He hesitated before ending the call. How exhausting... Stannis practically fell onto the couch, his eyes closed tight.

After a minute or so, he felt Davos plop down heavily beside him. Stannis repositioned his head so that it laid on the man's warm chest. He wanted to go back to sleep more than anything.

"Davos..." He mumbled. "I'm exhausted."

Davos's chuckle sounded from deep within his chest.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"You still in the mood?"

"No."

Davos stood and stretched.

"It’s alright." Davos looked around into the kitchen. "I'm going to head out for a bit and get some milk. I won't be long, but feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you get hungry." Stannis watched as Davos found a clean pair of boxers and a pair of jeans and put them on rather hurriedly. He then found some long sleeve shirt that he had obviously purchased at _Seven Flags_ , claiming he had survived The Wight, which was supposedly the scariest coaster in the Westerlands. He pulled that over his head.

"I'm good. I guess I'll wrap up the leftovers and take a shower." It had just occurred to him that he hadn't showered since the previous morning. He felt dirty. Davos clasped his hands together and gasped.

"Wow! You'll do that for me?" Stannis rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I suppose. Oh, and Davos?" The man looked up at him while he was pulling his shoes on.

"Yes?"

"Um... Can you pick me up some _Haagen Dazs?_ Rum raisin."

"I thought you didn't like sweets much."

"Sometimes when I get stressed I need ice cream. It's therapeutic." Davos smiled.

"That it is. I'll get you some."

Stannis rummaged in the pocket of his discarded pants for his wallet. "Here," He tossed it to Davos, who barely caught it. "Just use that to pay for everything. Use as much as you want. I don't care."

"Stannis, no. I can't take this. I'll use my own money." He said, frowning deeply and handing the thing back to Stannis. He refused to take it back, however.

"No. You've used enough money on me, and I know you don't have money to throw away. Take it. I insist."

"Oh. Thank you..." He gave a sad smile before exiting the apartment with his coat. Stannis got up to bathe.

\--

Davos was walking down the street a bit too quickly. _Two hundred dragons._ What the hell was that man doing carrying that much cash with him at once? All Davos needed was a gallon of milk and a small tub of that ice cream... And a new dustpan. That was it. He would have to go to the big grocery store downtown. The corner store in his neighborhood didn't sell the last item he needed.

The day was particularly cold, and the wind stung his face as he made his way to the bus stop. He'd have to invest in a good hat pretty soon.

He spent the brief ride thinking about his possible future. He could have a good job within the next couple of years. He could live in a house, or a nicer apartment somewhere else in King's Landing. He could move to the mansion on Dragonstone with Stannis... He could get married, though only few places allowed for same-sex marriage. They could have their wedding here, in King's Landing, down in Dorne, up in the North, or out in Braavos or Tyrosh. He could have a family again...

The bus came to a noisy halt and Davos stood so that he could exit. The store wasn't very far from his stop. It was about a five minute walk, although the surge of tourists made it a bit more difficult to navigate. He had to practically shove his way through one particular crowd, muttering apologies and feeling like an asshole. Well, he was very cold and sort of in a hurry.

The warmth of the store's heat was a godsend. He almost wanted to stand in the doorway and soak in the artificial rays of the suspended space heater. However, he went directly to the dairy section. He was deciding whether or not to buy whole milk when he heard a voice behind him.

"Davos, is that you?" The man froze. He almost didn't believe it when Melisandre, Stannis's neighbor was standing behind him, a not-so-welcoming smile adorning her pretty face like an accessory that was made to look genuine but could only trick a fool. Davos was no goddamned fool. She wore a crimson maxi dress and an intricate black necklace dashed with shining rubies. Her red locks tumbled about her shoulders neatly, cascading around her red blazer like liquid ember.

"Hey, Melisandre." Davos said uneasily. There was something quite off-putting about her and it made him uncomfortable. "What're you doing here in the city?"

"I'm a priestess. I lead worship of the Red God here in King's Landing twice a week. I just decided to pick up some groceries while I was down here. Everything's more expensive on Dragonstone."

"I see. That's unfortunate..."

"Yes, very. So, how's Stannis doing. Is he with you?"

"I-is he _with_ me?" Her brow furrowed slightly, her red lips pressing together slightly at his puzzled response.

"... Yes, is he here in the store with you?"

"Oh. Oh! No, he's over at my place." Perhaps he had said too much.

"At your place? That's why he wasn't home last night, yes?" Oh no. Davos could see the playful judgement in her eyes.

"Yes, um, we... We hung out last night, and he's just hungover. Yeah."

"Stannis doesn't drink." She smiled, and despite the physical warmth radiating off of her body, there was none in that smile.

"Right. Um..." Davos shifted. If only the gods or God or whatever would send down some _thing_ or some _one_ to get him out of this situation. This encounter was indeed a worst case scenario, a direct attack onto his seemingly flawless day. Perhaps he was plagued with bad luck. Maybe life wasn't a series of random events after all. Maybe fate was fucking with him.

"You two are seeing each other. You don't need to hide it, your son already told me."

"Who, _Devan?"_ Davos was shocked, and for a moment, angry with his son. When had he told her about him and Stannis?

"Yes, him. Interesting boy. If you live nearby, you should ask him if he's interested in attending my services." Davos frowned. He didn't like this woman, not her prodding or her eccentric attire or her smile or the fact that she was acquainted with his son. His poor, innocent son.

"I don't think he's interested in attending any religious services." He stated curtly. Melisandre seemed to perk up at this.

"Oh, why not? He is a new believer, is he not? He's young. He should practice his faith consistently. I've seen it in him: once he has gone through the proper rites, the Red God _will_ accept him with welcome arms." She touched him then, sending a surge of devilish warmth through his mutilated fingers. He wondered with contempt if the heat was truly from her skin, rather than the irritation bubbling from within him.

"Has the boy told you of what he's seen in the flames?"

"I... No, he hasn't."

"You should ask him. What he says may please you." She gave that little grin of hers. "Oh, and while we're still on the subject, I should tell you a bit about my past with Stannis. I feel you should know about it."

Davos didn't realize he had forgotten to buy the milk until he was a block away from his home.

\--

Stannis was still cleaning up the Seaworths' clothing when Davos practically burst into the apartment. He appeared both frantic and excited, like he had just witnessed something atrocious but interesting. Stannis decided to wait for him to speak first.

"Stannis, you had an _affair?"_ Stannis mouth parted in disbelief and his stomach nearly dropped along with the t-shirt he had been re-folding. How the hell had he found that out? Not even his _brothers_ knew about those years of his life... Those confused, miserable years of his youth.

"I... Who _told_ you, Davos?" The man put his groceries down on the table. From the looks of it he had forgotten the milk.

"I ran into Melisandre at the store. I didn't want to talk to her, but she insisted on keeping me held up in there." Stannis lowered his eyes so that they did not meet Davos’s. The affair had been something he planned on telling Davos, but he had wanted to wait until the time had felt right. Well, he supposed now was a better time than ever.

"Gods, Stannis," Davos said softly. "I'm not angry at you or anything. Why do you look like that?" Stannis narrowed his eyes critically at the other man.

"I thought you'd be angry. I would, if I were you."

Davos laughed lightly, situating himself onto the now visible floor. Stannis had actually done quite a bit of cleaning, but Davos's focus was clearly set on him and the past events of his life. It was kind of irritating. He had encountered two roaches in the past hour.

"I'm not angry, Stannis. I was a drug smuggler for fuck's sake."

Well, it _was_ true. He momentarily felt like an idiot. Davos had opened up to him completely when they had only known each other for a short amount of time. It would only be fair if he did the same.

"Her name was Selyse," He began, setting down whatever what had been in his hands. He sat cross-legged but was sure to maintain proper posture. His back was completely straight.

"We were married for about five years. Possibly the worst five years of my adult life. She, for one, did not love me, and I... I've never been very comfortable around women." It was an embarrassing thing to admit, but Davos did not seem phased in the least.

"Then why did you marry her?" Davos inquired. 

"I've always wanted a son. Don't know why, I just felt that a son would be able to pass on any legacy I left behind. Back then, I thought I had my entire future mapped out. I was somewhat wrong in my assumptions." He paused. "I thought I was going to be a lawyer, then take over Robert's company. Pity that never happened."

Stannis scratched his chin with a finger, observing Davos momentarily. The look on his face told him that he had said something wrong. Then it clicked.

"...Not implying that I'm not satisfied with my life as of now. Shireen is my pride and joy, and my job is very enjoyable."

"Of course." Davos responded. "But you're rambling."

"Oh. Yes. So, I met Selyse while somewhere in the Stormlands. We had little in common, I'll admit, but we still spoke. After we got married, she... She got pregnant. The baby was stillborn, and she got sick. When she overcame the illness, she got pregnant again. The next two children didn't live more than a day. Then came Shireen. We thought that her greyscale was going to kill her in the womb, but she lived, thankfully.

"It was around this time I met Melisandre. She moved into a home next to our own and decided to come over and chat. Introduce herself. She was beautiful and Selyse was not, and I suppose I thought I'd have a… Better time with her. Now I know I was wrong to be so shallow, so naïve, but I was younger then. Stupider."

"Did she make you happy?" Davos asked rather absently. He seemed to be staring out into the window behind Stannis.

"No, she did not. She didn't love me, Davos. She wanted something from me. Something strange. She wanted me to give her a prophet." Stannis grimaced at the absurdity of it all. His expression then ebbed into one of wholesome sadness. "I must have had sex with her twice. I hated it. She never got pregnant, thank the gods, but she never tired of my presence. She still hounds me constantly, hoping that I'll return to her and give her what she desires."

When he scanned the other again, he was surprised to find that he was grinning, as if he wanted very badly to laugh.

"Is something funny?" Stannis asked. Davos seemed a bit startled by his reaction, but the temporary surge of shock was washed away with another humorous grin.

"Stannis, she wanted to _fuck_ you so that she could give birth to a _god baby_. You don't find that funny at all?"

"No."

Davos shrugged, cheeks still pink with laughter.

"If you insist."

Davos sat next to the other, leaning his head onto the man's shoulder.

"I didn't like it," Davos mumbled, turning so that his breath lightly tickled Stannis's neck. "I didn't like seeing how miserable you looked after she left your house."

"She's... A very strange woman." Davos gently kissed the corner of Stannis's mouth. He could feel his body heat up under his touch. Davos repositioned himself so that he could feel his body more comfortably. Stannis felt mildly disquieted under Davos's intense gaze, so he brought his eyes down. He felt one of Davos's knuckles- one from his shortened fingers - lifted his chin so that their eyes met once again.

"Don't do that," Davos murmured. "I want to see your eyes. They're brilliant." Hearing that made him want to avert his gaze again. He flushed instead, silently begging for the man to return to continue touching him

Davos leaned in, gently taking Stannis's earlobe between his teeth and moving those rugged hands of his and running them up his slight sides, teasing hardened nipples with his thumbs. Stannis shuddered under Davos's surprisingly delicate touch.

"Davos," he sighed, basking in the scent of his leftover cologne and pressing his own lips against the heated skin of Davos's neck. He could feel puffs of breath against his jaw, his breath smelling of coffee. He must have stopped for some while he was out.

"You smell good," Davos whispered against his ear, his breath chilled against his skin from the saliva. "You used my soap, didn't you?"

"I might have," Stannis breathed, far too aroused to discuss it any further.

"It's good soap. I found it-"

"Davos."

The man drew back, dumbstruck at first. He put a hand on Stannis's shoulder, his mouth twitching strangely.

"You have no idea how hard it is not to laugh at you right now." Stannis frowned.

"There's nothing funny about that." That sent Davos _reeling_. He glared at him, heated annoyance momentarily flaring in his chest. He despised being laughed at, but at the same time truly could not stay angry at Davos Seaworth.

"Stannis, I'm sorry." He snorted, still laughing. "You can take your pants off, go ahead. Don't know why you put them on in the first place, it's boiling in here. Gods."

Stannis didn't move. As eager as he was to get on with it, he'd much prefer it if...

"You take them off." Stannis looked away, perfectly aware of the fact that he had come off more stern than he had intended. These things happened.

"Of course, Your Gracehole," Davos reached and tugged at the waist of his slacks, his lips connecting with Stannis's own in a way that made his back and his tongue prod his mouth needily, desperately, possessively. He felt a pang of jealousy and dislike for any other person that had done this with him before. Davos was his one and his only.

Stannis twitched and stifled a wanton groan when Davos ghosted his fingers over his pelvis, right below that sensitive spot that he so hated and loved at the same time. He remembered the _sound_ he had made when Davos had kissed it the previous night.

After their kiss had broken, swollen lips parting to let out exasperated little gasps. His eyes closed momentarily as he caught his breath and willed his heartbeat to slow down. To his utter dismay, however, his eyes shot open when Davos trailed his lips over Stannis's aforementioned sensitive spot, his breath and facial hair teasing the skin and practically driving him _mad_. His hardness pressed firm against the fabric of the other's clothing, practically forcing him to grind lightly into it, the friction sending pleasure surging through his body and his brain demanding for more. 

Stannis let out a hot breath as he felt Davos's tongue press against his tip, swirling and tasting as Stannis raked his fingers through the man's hair with a peculiar sexually-charged aggression. He moaned, forgetting the thin walls of the apartment and his own sense of shame.

Davos seemed to _drag_ his underwear down from his hips and took him in his mouth much too slowly. Stannis ground his teeth, his body expecting but not receiving what it wanted so desperately. His lover's fingers gripped his bare hips, and he was feeling aroused enough to push aside the pain in his ass so that he could once again feel the man inside of him... He thought better then, momentarily considering the hell that would be sitting at his desk the next day.

The warm wetness of Davos's mouth engulfed Stannis's cock, his thumbs rubbing circles into his skin and beads of moisture budding on his forehead like dew on a blade of grass. Stannis pressed his own hand over his face, somehow believing that covering his face would mask the pleasured moans and stream of curses that escaped his parted lips. He couldn't see Davos looking up at him as he bobbed his head and worked his tongue over Stannis's erection.

With his climax came a wave of pleasure, making his body twitch, his hands grip, his sight go white, and his partner cough and choke. Stannis sat up straight, not knowing what to do as Davos choked on semen. What if he had to call the ambulance? What would he say? He eased out of their sitting position and rubbed the man's back, paying close attention in case the coughing grew more exaggerated or his breathing became laborious. Relief washed over him when Davos recovered.

"Gods," He groaned hoarsely. "Give me a warning next time, alright?"

Stannis shifted his eyes, looking to a food wrapper under the couch he had neglected to toss. His mind suddenly flashed to the roaches he had seen hours in the past.

"I'm sorry," He replied, distracted by his own thoughts. He had wanted to forget what had just occurred between them as quickly as possible. He knew that Davos wouldn't let him hear the end of this for some time.

Davos wiped his mouth on his sleeve, which Stannis thought to be a little gross, and stood up.

"Let me clean this up. I need a shower..." He mumbled, looking down at the mess they had made. Stannis stood as well, his heart still pounding in his chest. It had been his fault, so he should be the one cleaning.

"Let me do it. You go take your shower."

"But Stannis-"

"Davos. Go shower. Your place is a goddamn mess, anyway. I doubt you know the first thing about cleaning." Stannis's lips lifted into what he intended to be a mocking smile. The other smiled back.

"Alright. Don't step on a roach. When you take one's head off, it splits into two of the little bastards."

"I'll keep that in mind," There was a silence as Davos searched for some fresh underwear.

"Hey," He called from next to his bed. "Would you mind it if I read to you a bit when I get out?" Hearing that made his heart lift.

"Of course that'd be fine. You know, I'm..."

"... You're what?"

"I'm very proud of you. I'm extremely proud of you." He looked enough to see that Davos was flushing a delightful shade of crimson.

"Th-thank you, Stannis." He hesitated for a moment before making his way back over and sweeping the man into his arms and kissing him deeply. Stannis almost shoved him away, repulsed at the thought of tasting his own semen. The taste was bitter on his tongue, nearly making him grimace, but the feel of Davos overpowered any thoughts of disgust in his mind. They parted with a smack.

"Sorry. I know I just sucked you off..."

"Yes, you did." Davos was looking straight into his eyes, and Stannis gazes right back at him. He felt passion welling so intensely in his chest he was almost disgusted by it.

"I love you, Stannis."

Their lips touched again before he could even produce a response. In that moment he realized he was genuinely happy, and the flavor of the kiss was that of sugar.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I was on vacation and then I kind of hit the ground running when I got back to school. Actually technically I shouldn't even be online right now because haha.... I have my APUSH exam on Friday and damn if I don't have 200 pages of textbook to read in 3 days.....  
> Well anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! I loved writing it tbh..... I love writing this fic....  
> Thank you for reading! :D I am.... So damn exhausted.............


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's been a while but I've been, like, UNREAL busy. I've had so much work.  
> Hm, speaking of work... Enjoy this chapter! ;)

He got the call at about 7 that night, while he and Shireen were listening to an audiobook, one sketching in a book and the other immersed in the reader's bubbly feminine tone. Stannis was not a fan of young adult fiction, but he didn't think that Shireen would enjoy _Ivanhoe_ , which he had wished to begin reading for the longest time. It'd have to wait. Besides, it had been time for Shireen to choose a book, and she had been very excited about a new story from her favorite author. He paused the CD and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Stannis, I don't have a lot of time but I have the _best_ news." It was Davos, no surprise there. "Gods, Stannis, I've been called for a second interview from a company. A _company_ , Stannis, not fast food like what I was expecting. It's a fucking miracle!"

Stannis raised his eyebrows in surprise. What kind of company would hire a man with absolutely no qualifications whatsoever?

"That's excellent - unexpected, I'll admit, but still excellent.. Does it pay well?"

"Yes, that's the best part! It pays much more than my old job. If Olenna really does want me for the job, I'm going to be a line chef. She said that I have to be willing to undergo intensive training. I dunno. I'm excited." Olenna? He couldn't possibly mean Olenna Tyrell, that old woman that had been at Robert's Warrior's Weekend get-together. The woman with no filter and no sense of shame.

"You couldn't possibly mean Olenna Tyrell, could you?"

"Yes, it is her. She runs the Highgarden Bistro chain. You know her?"

"I do, in fact. She's my brother's fiancé's grandmother."

"Ah. I had an interview with her a while back, the day I met you, in fact. She was pretty shameless. It was intimidating. I was sure I'd fucked up throughout the entire thing, but apparently not. Dunno why they waited so long to call me in for another interview, though."

"I see. I'm impressed. I'm sure that if you mention our relation it'd put you in a good spot."

"... That's not a close enough relation for her to be interested, Stannis. I'd be reaching."

"It's close enough. I'd bring it up if I were you. When's the interview, then?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. It's at some ritzy little cafe in one of the rich parts of town. I'm nervous, Stannis. Hold me."

"... I can't if you don't plan on coming over tonight." 

  
"I was joking, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"Oh, well I have the lesson planned out already. You're making remarkable progress."

"Thank you. I'll be over, I just had to come home and make sure I was prepared for tomorrow. Big day, you know." A pause. "Thank you for cleaning up, by the way. Devan was sure he had walked into the wrong room when he came back from Winterfell." Stannis smiled and glanced at Shireen, who was grinning up at him. He fixated his gaze on the grocery list on the fridge.

"It's no problem. Just keep it tidy."

"Will do. See you later, then."

"Alright." He placed the phone back into the receiver and sat back down on the couch. His daughter was still sketching away with the charcoal pencils the school had insisted the parents buy themselves, since the art department was lacking a bit in funding.

Stannis looked at the clock. They were losing precious time, and Davos hadn't even left his home yet. He had been getting to bed later and later on a day to day basis, usually spending his nights talking to Davos on the phone and then resuming his work. His classes were winding to a close, meaning that his work was piling up significantly. He felt a bit bad about leaving Samwell with a hefty chunk of his work, but it was a necessity at this point.

Stannis sighed. He just wanted to get to bed.

"What happened, Dad?" Shireen asked, not looking up but the speed of her sketching wavering.

"Well, it looks like Mr. Seaworth might be getting a better job."

"That's nice" She smiled, the light oddly glinting across the scaly side of her face. "Is Devan coming with him tonight?"

"Don't know. I didn't ask."

"Can you ask?"

"Umm... No. Do your project, Shireen." The girl rolled her eyes playfully.

"Okay, Dad."

\--

"Will this winter ever end?" Devan grumbled, hiking up the stony slope to Stannis's estate alongside his father. Davos ruffled his son's hair. The boy was a bit overdue for a haircut.

"C'mon, Dev, you were up North during your break. I thought you'd have fewer complaints than this!"

"Cold is cold." He responded. "But the Wall was a nightmare. The view was nice, though. We walked up there for an hour or so. I thought my fingers were gonna end up like yours by the time we got down."

"C'mon, it isn't so bad."

"I don't want nubs, Dad." Davos nearly tripped on a loose rock, but caught himself before he could tumble to his demise.

"Suit yourself." He rapped on the door sharply. Stannis's doorbell had stopped working a couple of weeks back, and knowing him, nothing had been done to get it fixed. For such an organized and disciplined man, he sure did put off anything he thought to be unnecessary.

They waited at the door for half a minute before Stannis came to the door, looking disheveled and a little lost.

"Sorry. Fell asleep. Come in," He said a bit under his breath. Davos and his son entered the warm house. Davos looked questionably down at his muddy boots. Dragonstone had clearly been hit with a hectic slush storm, and he didn't want to ruin the nice floor tiles with his dirty shoes. He took them off at the door and his son followed suit.

"Dev, focus on finishing your paper tonight. Don't procrastinate." Devan shrugged at the stern command.

"Can't promise that I won't, but I'll try." He turned to Stannis. "Can I please use your study for my work?" He asked, politely. Davos couldn't help but notice the bit of forcefulness in his son's tone.

"You may." Stannis replied, and Devan gave his thanks, hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder and went into the room to their left, leaving Davos and Stannis alone in the hallway.

"I worked on my writing quite a bit last night, you know." Davos announced with pride, rummaging through his stuff while making his way down the hall. "It's a bit, um- raw, but I was hoping you could help me with it."

"Of course I can. How much did you write?" Davos handed him the notebook and sat down at the table, waiting to see the astonished look on Stannis's face. There was no such look.

"Good but... This is an absolute mess... Good gods..." He brought his eyes up to Davos, who gave an embarrassed smile.

"Common Tongue is damned complicated."

"I agree. Damn, thank the Gods for autocorrect." He paused, scrutinizing the work with a critical eye. "I had something for you to do, but I think it'd do you some good if we went over your errors."

"Alright, then." Davos took a breath, anticipating the work ahead of them. It was definitely going to be a long night.

The two worked for a grueling hour and a half; by the time they had finished the necessary revisions, explanations, and elaboration, Davos could feel his brain pulsing within the skull, damn near full to bursting.

"Gods, that was a lot of work," he sighed, glad that this all was over. Perhaps he and Stannis could-

"I agree, it was, but we're not finished." Davos's expression dropped, and for a moment, he detected a flicker of coldness in the other man's eyes as he regarded him.

"That was the easy part. You're going to read the revised version out loud to me. You may take your time." He hesitantly took the journal from Stannis's hands and studied the page, smeared and scribbled from their intensive editing session. Perhaps if he claimed that it wasn't legible, he wouldn't have to read it aloud... Davos shooed the thought away, disheartened by the thought of letting Stannis down.

"Uh, so... My name is Davos Seaworth, and my story is, uh, unlike any other." He read slowly, glancing at Stannis occasionally in hopes of receiving a look of approval or encouragement. Again, he received no such look.

"You pause too long at commas. It makes it sound incorrect." He said through the folded hands pressed against his lips.

"So you want just a bit of pause?" The other's mouth twitched.

"Yes. Just a bit of pause." He tilted his head forward just a bit. "Now go on, we don't have all night, remember."

  
"Of course." After a sharp clearing of the throat, he continued his clumsy oration. "... E-everyone's lives work like the waves of the sea; there are, um high and low tides, calms and tempests, dol... Doldrums. Yes. And steady winds that great ships rely on so that they may sail forward in... Er, tri..."

"Triumph."

"Yes. Triumph. Thank you. In the short few decades I have been alive, I know very how much the ocean can build you up, guide you, and destroy you." Davos suppressed a proud grin. He had been so happy with that sentence, he had read it over several times at home and now knew it by heart.

"The sea has swallowed my parents, my wife... Dale, Matthos, Allard, Maric..." Reading aloud the names of his sons filled his chest with aching grief. He would not cry, no, he was past that, but he heaved a heavy sigh.

Stannis rested a hand on his, and Davos read on.

"... Um, and my fingers. However, in ev... ery sea lies treasure, and I consie- consider myself lucky to have found myself a great deal off. Of it.

"Low- _losing_ my parents was much like a... harbor wave; on our little boat, I did not feel a difference in the rhythm of the sea, but the wave crushed them in its cruel jaws, leaving me alone to drift on the ocean. I... Um, you're going to have to help me with this one." It was one of the sentences that Stannis had added himself upon suggestion. The other man leaned closer, eyeing the print on the page. Their handwritings were very different - Davos had the juvenile messiness of a new writer while Stannis had the rushed script of a scholar.

"I was more frantic than grief stricken, and my heart was beating much too fast to be weighed down by tragedy."

"Thanks."

"You know, you're surprisingly eloquent. You have excellent language, but have a real problem getting your thoughts onto paper correctly." He conceded, the fingers tightening around his knuckles reassuringly.

"I know... It's tough, but I appreciate it."

"You're also pausing in the wrong places."

"Stannis." Davos looked at him sharply, more playful than serious.

"Oh, yes. Continue."

"Um... Tragedy... Oh, yes. I con _sider_ my smuggling days to be some of my most glory... Glorious. My comp- companions and I had a lot of money to spend on food, alcohol, and other luxuries for our boat. We spent carelessly, and I knew not of the ness... Um..."

"Necessity."

"Necessity of saving. Once I left the trade and settled down, I found that I was broke and unable to fun...ction in society. This time in my life was like a great storm, but my wife and first child calmed the waters, and for a short few years the surface of the water was... Er.."

"Placid."

"I'm not going to get that job..."

"Not with that attitude. Do your best, get a lot of sleep, and have a nice breakfast. They wouldn't have called you for another interview if you weren't a strong candidate. Do what you did last time and do it better." Davos smiled in appreciation, placing his hand over Stannis's. Hand sandwich.

"Thank you." He glanced at the clock. It was well after eleven, and he was sure Stannis wanted to get to bed soon. "I got to be going, it's later than I thought. I'll call you when everything's done." He stood, stretching and yawning and cracking his back.

"Shireen's been quiet," he added, scanning the room as if somehow, she'd been masked in the tall shadows of the room the entire time.

"She told me she had a project to work on, so I told her to stay put and focus on getting in done." Stannis held his notebook out to him, which he took and dropped into his bag.

"I'm sure you could have let her say hello to Dev for just a bit." He felt bad for the poor girl. She was a bit chatty by nature, he suspected, and the confinement was probably eating away at her patience. "You know," he continued, "Dev doesn't like to admit it outright, but he actually really does enjoy her company."

"That's nice. Shireen is very sociable." Davos plucked his coat up from the back of his chair and pulled it on hastily. He was about to throw his bag over his shoulder when a thought crossed his mind.

"Stannis, you've got ties, right? Mind if I borrow one? I don't want to go to this interview wearing the same tie as last time."

"I do have a few ties. Are you being interviewed by Olenna this time as well?"

"Yeah," he scratched his chin with his nubs. "She said that no one else was willing."

"Understandable. I mean, it's unfortunate, but-"

"I know what you mean."

So other man gestured, and Davos followed suit, internally fretting every moment, for each that passed made tomorrow grow nearer. He didn't want to make the same mistakes he had made last time he'd been interviewed- he could read now, and to a certain extent, write as well. He'd seem the ideal candidate with those recently acquired skills, he had no qualms about that. He just hoped that the woman would recognize his strenuous efforts at becoming literate.

Davos hadn't realized that he'd never seen Stannis's bedroom until he stepped in. The sight was awe-inspiring, no doubt, but also plain. Not that he expected any sort of grandeur, since bedrooms weren't typically considered to be places you showed off to others, and Stannis was a man who valued practicality over appearance. It was a nice room nonetheless, with a high ceiling, carpet, some tidy wooden furniture, and rather elegant curtains draped over the windows and door he presumed led to a balcony of some sort. Another door lead to a bathroom.

 _Gods,_ Davos thought, _this fucking room is bigger than my apartment._

Stannis opened his armoire, revealing about six ties hung on a convenient little rack. He took a step back so Davos could ponder the choices. They were all plain, conservative, as he had expected. He chose one that was rich blue, almost the same melancholy shade of Stannis's eyes but somewhat darker.

"It'll be this one, I guess." He concluded aloud, looking to Stannis for approval. The man nodded, forefinger pressed against his lips as if in thought.

"Fine. Keep it." Davos's gaze fell from Stannis's hard expression to the tie.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly-"

"No, take it. I insist. Don't pretend you don't need it." His features softened, the lines on his face relaxing and setting his at ease. Smiling, he neatly folded the garment, thinking of what he could possibly say to fill the silence of the room. Stannis, who had taken a keen fascination to both his nails and the sloppy snowy weather outside, did not meet Davos's gaze.

Davos pulled him in close and whispered in his ear, the other's face slowly changing.

"Davos, no... I thought you had to go." Davos brushed his lips against his earlobe.

"It'll be quick. Quick and quiet and safe." He reassured, his voice low and throaty. "Don't worry."

"Shireen is just down the hall... Devan's downstairs..."

"We'll lock the door." Davos murmured, slipping his hand under the fabric of Stannis's shirt and feeling the hot flesh underneath. The dance continued until he pressed Stannis against the ajar door, forcing it closed with their bodies. He pressed the lock down before their lips met.

\--

Devan let out a breath, nearly slamming his laptop shut. His essay was finished, but he'd need to print it while he was still here at the Baratheons'. They didn't have a printer at home, and printing his work the period before it was due was growing riskier and riskier with each new assignment. He'd get up, ask where the printer was, and maybe take a nap. School was wearing him down, and each day he felt a little more haggard and a little less joyful.

Devan stood and stretched, bending his back until his spine popped and his shoulders cracked. He wondered why Shireen hadn't come down to at least say "hi". She might be asleep, or away at a friend's house. It was a little disappointing. A part of him had been hoping that she'd be able to hang out with him. It was a great deal better than waiting for texts from his friends and pondering the plights of not having wifi for an extended period of time.

Devan made his way through the halls and peeked into the dining room slowly, just in case his father and Stannis wanted... Privacy. He glanced to the side, embarrassed with his own personal thought process.

He was surprised to find that the room was completely empty, save for his father's backpack, some papers, and some mini muffins in a bowl with a napkin. He took three.

Next, he found himself in the kitchen, but failed to find the pair in there as well. Devan took a cereal bar from the pantry. He was a bit peckish.

After some thinking and some hesitation, Devan decided to go upstairs, although he felt as if he'd be intruding. If Shireen were in her bedroom, he'd ask the question, get his work printed off, and begin his lazy evening activities. Maybe he'd try and find something good on TV. So he made his way up the fancy staircase, wondering to himself why he was trying to make as little noise as possible. He shrugged it off as instinct.

The second floor hallway was dark save for two small lights peeking from underneath two doors. One was Shireen's room, and the other at the end of the hall, he presumed, was either the bathroom or Stannis's bedroom... He hoped to god it was the former.

No... He'd used the bathroom before. It was the door next to Shireen's bedroom.

 _"God, just fucking kill me..."_ Devan groaned aloud, shaking his head and turning to knock on the young girl's door. He could hear her spring up from her bed and make her way to the door. It swung open and Devan found himself face-to-face with Shireen, who seemed to have grown taller since they had last met. It most likely wasn't the case, but she _was_ pretty tall for a girl her age.

"Hi, Dev!" His face muscles instinctively pulled into a grin.

"Hey, Shireen. What're you up to?"

"Homework- a school project for my science class," she frowned, "I'm not allowed to leave my room until I get it done. It's due tomorrow." She paused, fidgeting slightly before smiling at him once again. "Won't you come in?"

"I, umm..." Devan frowned as well, craving company but not wanting to disturb her studies. "I just came to ask where the printer is. But I can come in after I print out my paper." Her face shone with alacrity at his added statement.

"Well," she began, "the printer is in my dad's study. Were you in there working?"

"Yeah," _I feel like an idiot..._ "I was, but I didn't see it." _I didn't look for it, either._

"It's fine. It's on the floor, so it's a little hard to find. It's in the right corner across from the couch." She made her way back to her desk, staring down at the mess before her for a moment. She turned back to him in her purple swivel chair. "My dad's desk is too small for the printer, and he said that it'd look really tacky on the coffee table. I still think it looks tacky on the floor, but it's pretty much hidden."

"Alright, sweet." Devan bounded back down the staircase and snatched another mini muffin from the dining room before returning to the study and hooking his laptop up to the printer. He didn't bother revising his finished copy. He'd end up regretting his work, meaning more writing for him, and Devan was tuckered out as it was.

Back in Shireen's room, he'd been going through the photos on his phone when Shireen asked for an extra hand in her project. He groaned internally, not wanting to do the work but willing to help her nonetheless. He stood next to her while she gave the simple instructions, and the two began to work in silence.

"So, are you excited?" Shireen inquired, dipping her paintbrush in a small cup of cool water. The sleeve of her cardigan slipped down, and pushed it past her elbows with a pinky finger.

"Excited? About what?"

"Your dad. He's getting a new job, right?" _Oh, yeah. How does she know that?_

"He may be. I hope so, anyway. He always complains about how much his job sucks. Sometimes it's funny. Other times, it makes me a little sad. I really hope he gets this one. It's really close to home, too."

"That's nice. Do you have a job, Dev?"

"No, I'm only fourteen. I can't work for another year and a half." He covered the tip of his brush in orange paint. "I can't wait until I can, though. I need to start saving money. For college and stuff."

"Nice... Do you mind if I put on a little bit of music? It'll be quiet, I promise."

They worked with a melancholy orchestra playing in the background. Devan wasn't big into classical music, but he had to admit that the songs playing were pleasant. A few minutes later, their fathers came out of the room down the hall, Stannis continuing down the hall as Davos peered into Shireen's room, smiling.

"Evening, Shireen." She greeted him back cheerfully.

"Alright, Dev, we ought to get going. Big day tomorrow."

"Okay."

Once they were downstairs, Devan was amused to see his father and Stannis fidgeting awkwardly around each other before finally saying goodbye. His amusement waned when he saw the latter re-enter the dining room while they were on their way out. Surely he wouldn't notice the missing muffins. He felt as if Stannis was the kind of man to throw a passive-aggressive fit over some snacks.

Traveling down the slick slope down to the road was even more daunting than trekking up it, and Devan, despite being a man grown, found himself clinging to his father for support like a frightened child. As usual, it was too late take a bus to the station, and so the boy and his father had to brave the wicked bite of the Westerosi winter to reach their destination. It wasn't anything they weren't used to - living in the city does that to you, but in the end, their fingers were still tinged with the angry pink of cold. Devan wondered what winters had been like before ski coats, space heaters, and global warming... Not to mention the Others. That section in his history book had always sent chills down his spine. Sometimes, you just have to thank the Red God for extinction.

They weren't surprised to find the subway nearly empty when they boarded, and so they chose some seats far from the doors so that they could feel as little wind as possible with each stop. They settled in before starting up a conversation.

"You know," Davos began, playing with the keyboard on his phone. Devan noticed that he had begun doing that quite a lot. "I heard somewhere that spring should be coming within the next year."

Oh, the weather. What a great topic to discuss.

"Good." He responded, going through his messages. He ought to get back to Jon soon. "I'm so tired of having to haul my ass though half a foot of slush just to get a bag of chips from the store."

"Maybe you should ease up on the snacking." He gave his father a look, and the man put his hands up in defeat.

For a while, Davos flipped through his book, seemingly fascinated by every word he read. Devan, someone who did not find much enjoyment in reading, played a game on his phone. He did so until the motion sickness set in, making his head pound and his stomach lurch. He felt like he needed to heave, but knew he would not, so instead of ignoring his temporary ailment to continue popping virtual balloons with his finger, he decided to take some time and ponder during the last few minutes of the trip.

He found himself thinking of Miss Melisandre, the red woman who had opened his eyes from their foolish, ignorant slumber. He had intended on dropping by the woman's home while his father and Stannis had been working, but his essay had not been completed in time to allow for that. Besides, the thought of tripping down the treacherous trail from Stannis's door was enough to sway him from making such a brash decision. Devan did not like winter.

Having no place to build a fire within the Landing (without it being deemed arson, of course), the youth felt a disconnectedness with the Red God, so he had searched for places in the city where he could legally worship at will. Sometimes it baffled him how just a mere few weeks ago he had no interest in any sort of religion whatsoever. Now, he actively prayed while lying in bed at night, as well as before sports matches and car rides home with Gendry. Aerys II could surely have driven better than him, he was sure of it.

He wondered if R'hllor could see him masturbate. The thought made him shudder with regret.

Just the previous day, Devan was pleased to find that Miss Melisandre held services weekly just a thirty minute walk from his neighborhood. However, the schedule conflicted with his own, leaving him with no choice but to abandon his fruitless search. It was a damn shame that a city as large and diverse as King's Landing should only have one place of worship for the Red God within a close proximity of his apartment. He recalled a text conversation he had had with Sansa earlier in the week.

_hey sans does ur dorm have a fireplace?_

_\- Yes. Why?_

_let me use it for meditation, mayhaps?_

_\- Dev, no. Bye._

_:(_

Devan had to inform his father when they came to their stop, and Davos had to practically scramble up from his seat, hustling out the door briskly so that he wouldn't have to walk home from the next stop over.

The wind had picked up significantly since they had left hours in the past, blowing Devan's head of brown hair this way and that till it was a catastrophic mass that would definitely be a pain in the ass to comb in the morning. The morning. His father's interview. A new future.

Devan hoped to God nothing would go wrong. They just couldn't afford to lose any more.

\--

It was the third time in the past couple of months Davos had been genuinely nervous. Though it showed not in his demeanor save for the occasional fidget or wiping of the forehead, it slithered and swirled like a dozen snakes mating in his stomach. If only he could hurry to the bathroom and splash a bit of water on his face and invigorate his dull senses. He hadn't slept well the previous night.

He had been pondering ordering himself a beer when he spotted the old woman just outside the establishment's glass door. The two made eye contact, and the woman smiled and entered.

Davos could not deny that the woman was old and withered, with sunken eyes and more wrinkles than there were waves on the sea, but her demeanor was authoritative, her gait quick and confident, her eyes sharp with knowledge and brows arched with intuition. He could plainly tell that she was wearing quite a bit of makeup, thus reviving the beauty she might have had during the Yunkish Revolution of 1892, but her elderly features remained quite prominent nonetheless. She was dressed head to toe in a green dress suit and thick black coat, her feet clad in lively green pumps that matched the gems around her sagging neck and accented her hazel eyes. Davos straightened his back as she sat, feeling his anxiety drain into his bowels while forced himself to grin like a fucking fool. He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. Hers was veined and spotted, yet soft with age. Her expensive watch jingled about her bony wrist as they shook.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Tyrell." He said politely, careful to look her straight in the eye as he spoke. His bowels churned again when she rolled them in response.

"Oh _please_ , Mr. Seaworth, don't go around calling me 'Ms. Tyrell' as if you were a little schoolboy prancing around and pissing your Pull Ups. My name is Olenna." Davos gulped, feeling as if he might just piss his Pull Ups.

"O-Of course," he stammered, despite not intending to appear too shocked. "I'm sorry." The woman laughed to his surprise, lightly patting his hand before picking up her pen.

"Just putting you in the spot, dear. Call me what you like, Ms. Tyrell, Olenna, the Queen of Thorns, the batty old crone... My grandson is fond of the last one when we butt heads. The boy thinks he's no longer a hormonal little teenage knucklehead because he's in college now, but shits will be shits no matter where they're dropped."

Davos laughed, leaning back a bit. He could feel the nervousness fading away.

"How many grandchildren do you have, Olenna?"

"Three. Three wonderful, annoying grandchildren. But it's Loras I'm talking about. Sweet boy, but he needs an occasional smack in the mouth, that's what I think. Here's the waiter."

He was a handsome young man, tall and more slight than muscular. He was clearly Dothraki, his long hair fashioned and decorated traditionally in respect of his culture. He beamed a smile as he asked what they'd like to drink. Davos asked for plain water, plenty of ice. Olenna ordered some sort of margarita, and the youth nodded, promising to return promptly with their drinks. He gave Olenna a formal little bow. Once he had left, the old woman smirked amusedly.

"Handsome boy," she started, flipping through the menu. Davos did the same, albeit slowly. "What was his name? I didn't check the tag."

"I didn't catch it either."

"Mm, fine boy. I ought to give him a hefty tip, that's what I ought to do." She looked up at him now. "Do you know what you'd like to order, or do I need to read the menu out to you?"

"No, I'm fine on my own, thank you." He flushed, not comfortable with being mocked in such a crucial situation. He wasn't very hungry to start with, so he decided on an inexpensive sandwich. Olenna seemed to have made her choice as well. She closed her menu.

"So, Mr. Davos Seaworth. You may be wondering why we are interested in hiring you, an uneducated cripple with a criminal background." He froze, horrorstruck. He had no criminal record. He'd never been caught smuggling, not once in his life. Gods, if only he could run to the bathroom...

She scanned his face, smirking. "Oh, yes, sweetheart, I know all about your past, although I'm not going to get my knickers in a twist about some smuggled produce. You may breathe, if you'd like." He did just that. It seemed she didn't know about the drugs. Good. It'd have to stay that way.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you..."

"Know? Oh, dear, there are no records on file, but I have my own... Personal methods, if you may. That's all. Now let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Of course."

"Mr. Seaworth, as you may already know, you were not the only candidate who wanted this job. We've received applications from high school dropouts, students, chefs, immigrants... And somehow you've made it this far, a man as unqualified as you. Do you know why?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't."

"Last time we met, I felt a passion and vigor from you, something I saw very little of in the majority of other candidates. You were not haughty, nor unmotivated, nor jittery like a puppy. I liked that. When I asked why you needed this job, and you explained your situation calmly. You were not melodramatic or indifferent. I liked that too."

"Thank you, Olenna."

"I'm not done yet, dear. Now, when I told my... Coworkers that I was interested in hiring you, they didn't want to hear it. They made some very snide comments, which I will keep to myself for your own sake. None of the boys wanted to interview you, so I decided to conduct this second one myself. Now, I only want to ask you a few additional questions. Ah, but here's our waiter."

They boy gave the, their drinks and took down their orders, leaving them alone once again.

"Anyway, Mr. Seaworth, I was able to narrow down our choices to two candidates; yourself and a seasoned woman from Oldtown. I have a good idea as to who I am choosing already. Let's hope I'm not wrong."

The interview went better than he expected. Unlike last time, the environment was relaxed, and in between questions, they chatted about other things besides business. Davos talked about his tutoring and his hopes for the future. As much as he had tried to skirt around the subject, he could not help but mention Stannis and how much he had aided him through his journey. To his relief, the woman seemed impressed by this story.

"And I was under the impression that Stannis was an ambitious, self-absorbed, cold-hearted prick with a pole jammed up his ass constantly, but it seems he has a heart after all." Davos couldn't help but take that as a personal offense, though he dare not utter a harsh word in defense of the man. Not to her, at least.

"He's definitely not like that once you get to know him. He's one of my closest friends." Davos, strangely embarrassed, took a bite of his sandwich, keeping his eyes fixed on the powdery bread.

"Sounds like you admire him very much."

"... I do." He didn't know how to continue on with the topic, so he decided to change it to something that would require more of her speaking. "So, about your grandson. I heard that he's... Well acquainted with Stannis's brother, correct?"

"Loras, that lovestruck little oaf? Must've been out of his damn mind, engaging that Baratheon boy before he could even grow a few hairs around that cock of his." Davos flushed a shade at the woman's crude language. "I was married at 18, the same age he is now, and what do I get? A dead, stupid husband, an idiot son and some high-maintenance grandchildren." She huffed irritably. Davos didn't have a clue as to how he should respond to that, so he just sat tight, taking an uncomfortable sip of his wine. She slid a Manila folder from her bag and slid it towards him.

"Here, take this." He did as he was told.

"What is..."

"Our recipe book and guide." Olenna cut in before the man could even process the word in the front page. "Welcome to the team, Mr. Seaworth. You're to memorize this before the beginning of the week, which is very soon, if you have not yet noticed. I also expect you to begin training on the date indicated on the form. There are several copies of the recipe book in the kitchen itself, but that won't do you much good now, will it?"

"Th-thank you very much, Ms. Tyrell." _Stay composed._ "I really needed this job."

"Oh, loosen up, you ought to be a bit more excited about this. Raise your glass, boy. It's the middle of the day, but you've got a hell of a lot to celebrate." They clinked their glasses together, and the old woman took a larger swig than even he could manage.

"Goodness, Ms. Tyrell, you're quite the drinker..." The woman wet her lips.

"Well, when you get older..." She winked. "Care for another glass?"

"Well, don't mind if I do." Davos allowed the woman to fill his glass but did not drink more than about half of the content. He wanted to save himself for later, when the _real_ party began. He wondered if Salla was back from his excursion.

Whatever, Sal could wait. Stannis was always his first priority.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for taking 100000 years to publish this. I hope you guys are sticking with me, especially since the fic will be drawing to a close!  
> Thank you to shoujo for proofing this ! What the fucky would I do without you bro.


	11. Technically Chapter 10.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a poorly planned and pleasant chapter I decided to write after episode 9. Enjoy! Wow!

Though always a bit awkward, Shireen enjoying outings with her father. Sure, the afternoons were always full of brief and inconsistent conversation, but the girl knew that her father simply wasn't the type for small talk, and she respected that.

Besides, it was him who glared at the adults who stared at her, the children who sniggered behind raised palms and pointed fingers, and the old people who would scowl from a distance, eyeing the man at her side and wondering why he would bring such a creature outdoors, the little girl with the horrid disease that turned men to stone... By now she had gotten used to the unwanted attention and it seldom bothered her, save for when the situations got verbal. Those were the times her father got verbal as well, and Shireen had to admit that it was very entertaining.

Shireen had been preparing for another one of these weekend outings- she had her casual backpack, a wallet full of stags and dragons, and had been fastening a brightly-colored bow in her hair _(to distract them from the greyscale)_ when her father came to her doorway, avoiding prolonged eye contact as if uncomfortable. She knew he was not.

"Shireen?"

"Yes, Dad?" She replied politely, attempting to zip up her coat with some difficulty. He went over to help her.

"I feel," he began, taking the jammed zipper back down to its starting place, "as if we haven't been spending as much time together." He expressed, focused primarily on the matter at hand. She smiled understandingly.

"It's alright. You've been busy." Then she frowned. "Are we not going to the mall today?"

"We are," he reassured, "but I wanted to know if you would mind if Mr. Seaworth tagged along with us. He got a new job and I want to congratulate him." _In the most passive way possible._ She thought.

In a way, she had felt it coming. It certainly was true that her father was spending almost as much with Mr. Seaworth as he was with her, but it didn't bother her in the least. It was worth it to see her father in such good spirits a majority of the time. Plus, she really did like Davos and Devan. Davos was amazingly kind and Devan was amazingly cool, and they made for good company since Shireen didn't have that many friends. Thinking about it, she hadn't called Myrcella in a while... Myrcella’s parents were scary, though, and she didn't want to risk having them pick up the phone.

"It's fine, Dad! You know I like him... Will we be able to go to the stores I want, though?"

"Of course." He finally managed to free the jammed zipper and proceeded to zip the garment  properly. "I have a book to pick up, though."

"I wanted to go to the bookstore anyway. Was it the one you pre-ordered?"

"Yes. Mance Rayder's autobiography. Would you like to borrow it when I'm finished? It's just been released and it's already popular."

"Yes, thank you." Shireen knew that the book was rather grown up, but she knew that if she couldn't handle the content, her father wouldn't let her read it in the first place. Shireen liked history, anyway. Riveting historical accounts of horrid Others and soaring dragons and towering giants- things that seemed like fantasy but were all too real to the people of Westeros - those were the stories that fascinated her the most. She also adored tales of gallant knights and beautiful princesses, stories of kings and queens both just and wicked. She often found the evil ones more interesting.

The girl picked up her bag and followed her father out the door. Today he wore his signature black turtleneck, paired with a pair of blacks slacks that she had practically forced him to wear. They looked a lot nicer than the jeans he usually wore for comfort, and she had made it known that if he wore them out one more time, she'd give them to Miss Melisandre's fires. Now he looked very put together, his stiff posture giving him an air of regality.

Shireen was hit full-on by an icy gust upon stepping outside the door; it seemed winter grew worse and worse with each day, and she did not like it. She longed to feel the heat of summer, to feel the warm rays of sun on her skin without having to remain behind closed doors. She missed the rocky beach and the warmth of the seawater. Sometimes on even the coldest of nights, she saw Miss Melisandre sitting still in the sands, kindling and staring into her fire for hours. It scared her. She didn't like the woman or her scary religion. She didn't like how the woman spoke to her father, or how she was drawing Devan in with her charm. She didn't like how uncomfortably warm it got whenever they were in the same room. And the stares...

The girl had to hold her father's hand as they went down the slope and to the bus station. Shireen had proposed getting stairs or _something_ to make their daily trial much easier, but Stannis had merely mumbled about the cost and the lack of necessity. It was good that he had his priorities set, at least. There was nothing he valued more than family and education. And Davos. She knew that much.

On the subway that took them to the mainland, she had been staring at the blurred orange tunnel lights when her father spoke:

"Did you bring any money, Shireen?"

"Yes. I brought some stags and a twenty dragon note. No more than that, I promise." He didn't speak, but produced from his own wallet three twenty dragon notes. Her eyes widened with amazement. Surely that all couldn't be for her. It was so _much_. She resisted every urge to snatch the bills from her father's hand and took them politely, smiling in thanks. Stannis had a tiny grin on his face.

"Don't spend it all, now. You need to save your money."

"I will. Thank you, Dad." He hesitated before awkwardly half-rubbing and half-patting her head. It was a kind gesture, but Shireen had to fix her hair back afterwards. She leaned her head in his arm before returning her attention to the dark outside world. A woman sitting across from them glanced at her occasionally, not intending to appear rude but simply curious. Shireen paid her no mind. She was going to have a great day, and because of that, nothing else mattered.

\--

The Mall of the Red Keep was the largest mall in Westeros, and it's vastness never ceased to amaze her. It was truly a place where old met new- the architecture was modern mixed with the elegantly medieval elements of the Red Keep. It was one of Shireen's favorite places besides the Keep itself.

Mr. Seaworth was waiting just in the doors at the south entrance, and though she was glad to see him, the lack of Devan disappointed her just a bit. The man was on his phone, but Shireen had a feeling he was pretending to text as to feel less awkward about standing in the same spot for a while. She couldn’t help but smile with faint amusement at the thought of it. She waved to him, and we waved back, beaming. Shireen noted that the man preferred mittens over gloves- it was easy to guess why.

"Hello, you two!" He called while making his way over. He practically threw his arms around her father, who awkwardly rubbed his back in response. The display made Shireen giggle, albeit discreetly. She always felt a smidgen of guilt when laughing at the antics and mannerisms of her father, since she knew that enough people did the same thing to him in a less friendly way.

"Hello Davos." Her father responded, cheeks red from what could be the cold or simple embarrassment. It was most likely a mix of both. She couldn't help but notices his eyes glance at passing shoppers as he spoke with Mr. Seaworth but didn't quite understand why...

"Well, Shireen, it's your day. Where would you like to go first?" Mr. Seaworth asked as they walked past the shoe section of the department store. Shireen wasn't particularly interested in most clothing and shoes, although she had a soft spot for nice dresses and skirts. She didn't want to dictate where the three of them went, so she put her hands back into her pockets and said,

"I don't want to tell you guys where to go, so you can make the decision, Mr. Seaworth." The man laughed and her good cheek flushed with color.

"Shireen, you know I'm not a shopper. We'll take you into as many stores as you like, no matter how tired we get. Right, Stannis?" Davos nudged the other man, and Shireen looked up to see him nod, lips taut. She smiled.

"Cool, then can we please go to the candy store?" Her father's eye twitched.

"Shireen," Stannis let out, "cavities-"

"Dad, I won't get cavities from eating candy twice a year." Her father averted his gaze, meaning that she had won the argument, and quickly too.

"But Shireen," he continued, and she looked to Davos who rolled his eyes with a smile. "You're going to be in seventh grade. Why spend your money on candy?"

"I'm not thirty, Dad. I can still buy overpriced candy and nobody would bat an eye."

"Are you-" Stannis began, but Davos cut him off before he should get out another word.

"Let her buy what she wants. Her teeth won't fall out after gorging herself on candy for a few days, I promise." He said gently, placing a hand on her father's shoulder. He let out a breath and physically relaxed.

"He doesn't like the candy shop," Shireen explained to Mr. Seaworth, who seemed thoroughly amused by their little exchange. "The atmosphere gets to him."

"It's the smell, and all the damned children." They three exited into the mall, and Shireen looked up and down at the hordes of shoppers bustling up and down the way, chatting on phones, walking with friends, chasing after their kids whilst balancing bags on their arms; it was harrowing, especially since the mall was almost never this crowded. Without knowing, she moved a little closer to her father. Shireen knew that she was nearly twelve and no longer a child, but the big crowd made her feel small.

Another thing she had noticed was that Stannis and Davos preferred arm-linking to handholding. A while ago, she had asked her father why this was so, but he had only shifted a bit and expressed that it had never crossed his mind.

So as they headed towards their destination, the couple strode arm in arm with Shireen at their side. The three passed store after store, and with each step they took, her mind flickered constantly from thought to indecisive thought.

Should _I buy candy? Or just save my money on something I can only get here?_ Her eyes flickered to her father, whose brow was furrowed, but she knew by now that it meant nothing. _I shouldn't,_ she decided. _It's not worth it._

"Dad?" She finally asked. They stopped, and the two men looked down at her, her father standing tall and rigid while Mr. Seaworth stood relaxed, a head shorter. It occurred to her that she'd be Mr. Seaworth's height in a mere few years.

"I want to go to the bookstore first, instead. If that's okay." She was a bit ashamed of inconveniencing them like this since they had already passed it. She had also, however, seen her father's lingering gaze when they had gone by; her father could seldom muster the strength to pass a book sale or bookstore of any kind, despite how strong-willed he appeared on the outside.

This time, Stannis hesitated.

"Shireen, don't feel like you have to do this for my sake."

"It's not," she said enthusiastically, "I want to." She scratched at her dead cheek and felt nothing. "I know you want to pick up your book, anyway."

And with that, they went back and entered the great shop. Strangely, the shop was bustling sans the noise that typically came with being in a room filled with people. Those who weren't reading or sipping overpriced beverages while typing away sullenly at tables were engaged in hushed conversation, the occasional laugh bubbling over other sounds. Shireen loved it here. She and her father enjoyed sitting side-by-side and reading for _hours_ whenever they went out to buy books.

Upon entering, Stannis made his way to the register, leaving her and Davos in the dust of his haste.

"Did you bring money, Mr. Seaworth?" Shireen asked the man quietly, not wishing to disturb the busied youth just to their left. The two went to sit on an unoccupied couch.

"Just a bit, in case I see something Dev might want." He smiled. "I don't really need nothing for myself."

"Dad gave me _sixty dragons_ earlier, you know." She darted her eyes around, in case someone was listening, plotting to steal her fortune.

"Really, now?" He sounded falsely exasperated, and she giggled.

 _"Yeah,"_ she responded, "I'm not supposed to spend it all, though, so I'm going to save some for my bank account." Thinking about the fat stacks stashed in her wallet gave her a sudden sense of charity, of generosity. "I'll buy you a book, then. I know you like reading now." The look of surprise on his face made her grin.

"Shireen, I can't just-"

"I'll give you recommendations! C'mon, I'll show you some good ones." Davos did not protest, but rose, following close behind her as she led him to the graphic novel and comic book section. She scanned the shelf for a minute before finding what she was looking for. She pulled the thin volume from the shelf and handed it to Mr. Seaworth, who at first tried to take it with his right hand. She still wondered why he had no fingers on that hand. Maybe some day he'd relay to her the gruesome tale.

"I'm not a big fan of comics and graphic novels, but this is incredible!" She explained with a beaming smile. "It's about Nymeria's childhood and adventures. There are six books, and they're all pretty quick reads, so it's not challenging at all. And look at the pictures!" He flipped through the book.

"They're incredible!"

 _"Right?_ Dad doesn't like it when I read 'picture books', but these are so much fun and pretty historically accurate." She gestured for him to follow her again, so he returned the book to its spot and did just that. Soon, they were in her domain: the historical fiction section. It took her almost no time to find what she was looking for. She gave this to Mr. Seaworth.

"This is really interesting. It's a story about the Doom of Valyria told by an orphan child. It's kind of long, but really engaging. I'd give it a try."

Next, instead of scanning the shelves for each book she recognized one by one, she decided to take a few minutes to gather them up, balancing them in her arms as if they were a delicate vase filled to the brim with precious water. After he took a majority of the load from the girl, she and her father's boyfriend found a table somewhere in a far corner and sat down with the books stacked in front of them. And so it began. She selected a volume from the top of the stack.

"This is one of my favorites. It's a... A... Memoir! Yeah, memoir as told by a giant beyond the wall. My dad read this to me when I was younger, and I remember it being cool, so I read it on my own last year. It's very interesting." She placed the text down and took up another.

"This is a long read, and it's also _really_ sad. It's about the persecution... Prosecution? Well, it's about what they did to the wargs a long time ago. I had to read it for school during our last long break. Really good book.

"Now _this_ one we have at home, so I guess you can just borrow it, but I want to tell you about it anyway. It's about the false king of House Baratheon back during the days of the iron throne. Isn't that cool? It's a story about our ancestors. It's still debated a lot whether or not he was the rightful heir to the throne, but my dad and I think that it was his. I'd read this if I were you, but if you disagree with his opinion, don't talk to him about it."

"Why-"

"Just don't."

The two went over about six more times before Davos got a bit overwhelmed. He was sifting through the volumes and Shireen through her wish list when her father found them, pulled up a chair, and sat. He had three books in his bag instead of the anticipated one.

"Hi Dad, I'm just giving him recommendations." She said, still flipping through her little notepad for interesting sounding books.

"Is she overwhelming you, Dav?" Mr. Seaworth grinned, putting down the book on the legend of Hardhome that he was pawing through.

"No, not at all!" He reached and patted her on the head. "She has interesting taste. I think I'm going to buy this one, actually."

"What's called?"

_"Hardhome."_

"Heavy read. Good though." He paused, scanning his daughter for a moment. "Shireen, would  you mind it if I stayed here for a while and read?" For a moment, the joviality left her face. These father-daughter days were always her favorite- they were times filled with pure bonding and tons of fun. Although she knew her father extremely well, she always learned something new about him every time they went out.

Still, she would have many more opportunities to do this in the future, and besides, hanging out with Davos would be fun. Shireen nodded her affirmation and turned her attention to Davos, who had his attention on Stannis. He placed his hand on her father's, clearly amused by the situation.

"Oh, you _would_. I'll take her through the mall, don't worry about it. Just call when you're ready to join us."

"I will." Stannis stood and kissed his daughter on the forehead. "I'm going to use the bathroom. Have fun, Shireen. And you too, Davos." And with that he was gone, leaving her alone with Mr. Seaworth once again. This time it was her who stood.

"I've decided on the book I want to buy today. I just have to find it..." She said, gathering up some of the books she had removed from the historical-fiction shelf. Davos did the same, and together, they made their way back to the shelf and began replacing the volumes to their respected spots. She was overwhelmed to find that Davos truly was planning to purchase _Hardhome_. She had been listened to, and it really made her feel appreciated and accepted. Her mind flashed back to the conversation she had overheard during a family holiday a few years ago.

 _"They have special hospitals for children like her,"_ her aunt Cersei had said, and though she had only been seven, she never forgot those words. It was as if she were a monster...

And so it felt exceptionally good when adults were kind to children like her, listened to children like her, _respected_ children like her. She felt like a regular child again, and not a small, scaly thing with big ears and spindly limbs. Davos was one of those people that made her forget her flaws and allowed her to simply be Shireen, lover of books and baked goods and watching princess movies with her father. Devan too- he was much unlike the older kids at school that always let their eyes linger on her too long, and made a game out of staying at least five feet away from her at all times. She was friendly, so why ostracize her?

She snapped back to reality after Mr. Seaworth called her name for the third time.

"O-oh, sorry..." She apologized meekly. "I was thinking about something." As usual, he was nothing but understanding.

"It's all right. Let's pick up your book and head to the register, and you can tell me where you'd like to go next. We have plenty of time."

They did just that, and whilst standing in the almost unbearably long queue, they agreed upon their next destination. As the register grew closer and closer, Shireen rummaged through her bag in search of her wallet. When she felt the rather lightweight object, she drew it from the pocket slowly so that she wouldn't drop it. It would draw too much unneeded attention to her...

"Stop right there." Davos said rather sternly. It startled her. "You don't think I'm actually going to let you pay for those now, do you?"

"But I have enough to pay for both of us. It'd be a gift for you."

"Shireen, I don't need any gift. I have enough money on me to pay, so let me do it. You're eleven, so learn to hold on to as much money as you can. It goes damn fast, let me tell you." She felt a little awkward. Part of her wanted to argue and pay the sum herself, but another part of her was grateful for his intervention. She decided to go along with the less saintly feelings.

"Thank you Mr. Seaworth." He returned a warm smile.

"It's no trouble."

In the end, they walked out not only with their books, but a fancy bookmark for Shireen as well. It was gorgeous, black leather with intricate gold designs and animals printed onto it, all sealed in a skin of transparent plastic to that it would not deteriorate. She had to have thanked Davos half a million times for it.

As they walked the illuminated pathway to their next destination, dodging groups of laughing teenagers and shoppers chattering away on cell phones, Shireen let her eyes rest on the oasis, the holy sept of the shopping mall- the ice cream shop. Being the mind reader he was, Davos came to a halt, scratching his bearded jawline with one of those severed fingers of his. She noticed that at a distance, his fingers could appear normal length. She decided that she'd ask him about them soon enough.

"I could go for a soft serve right now, you know. I skipped out on breakfast this morning. How's that sound, Shireen?"

The grin spread across her face like a mighty tempest of joy.

"That sounds great!" Then she thought for a moment. "Can I please pay this time, though?" She watched his brow slightly furrow, then smooth out once again.

"... I suppose you can. It's not that much. Why don't we go, then?"

Shireen couldn't remember the last time she had had soft serve. For some odd reason her father had always avoided the ice cream place like the flu. She concluded that it was the intoxicatingly sweet smell. It was a bit overwhelming for even her after a few minutes

Davos had ordered a large swirl, and if she hadn't known better, she would have assumed that the astonishing amount of ice cream would have melted before the man could even finish half of it. That was not the case for certain; he ended up finishing his cone shortly after she had finished off the small vanilla she had ordered, which left her to wonder why boys seemingly swallowed food whole, save for her father, who almost never finished a meal and took a long time in doing so.

The two must have covered half of the great four-story mall before the grew weary and hungry. Although visiting the food court usually signified the end of a mall trip, Shireen was determined to press on afterwards. Besides, Stannis hadn't called yet, meaning they still had time to spare. Knowing him, he was probably a third of the way through the long book he had purchased. One day, she hoped to be able to read as quickly as he.

Davos and Shireen decided together to grab some Dornish fast food and sit near the fountain in the middle of the court. Initially, it had seemed the ideal spot, picturesque and well-lit, but the roar of the waters made if difficult to be heard, and tiny water particles constantly found their way to their skin. It grew irritating, and so they moved. As spicy as the food was, Shireen wanted to chat, and so ignoring the fiery bite on her tongue, she asked the question that had been burning in her chest for the longest time:

"What happened to your fingers, Mr. Seaworth?" She spooned some more soup into her mouth, swallowed, and held back a cough. "I mean if you don't mind sharing." Davos looked down at his fingers and smiled.

"Shireen, when you think of the word 'criminal', what sort of image comes to mind?"

"Hmm... A black mask, gun in one hand and money bag in the other. And a funny mustache." This made him laugh.

"I don't mean a cat burglar! I mean a criminal, like you hear on the news."

"Well... That's different, but I guess it depends. A lot of criminals have tattoos, but a lot of normal people do too... Did a criminal cut your fingers off?"

"I suppose so, but the story is pretty justified. They were criminals, but I was one too." She couldn't help but let out an astonished gasp. Him? He had to be joking! The mere thought of him doing something as simple as stealing candy from a store was enough to make her laugh.   
  
"Are you being serious?" She asked, already intrigued by the story that was to come. She put down her fork and leaned in to listen to the man tell his grisly tale.

"I am. I'm surprised your dad hasn't told you that I used to be a smuggler."

"A _smuggler?"_

"Yes, like a pirate but less cool. And less violent. It's a long story as to how it all came to be, but to put it simply... Ah..." He contemplated momentarily continuing. "Alright, say you and a couple of your friends wanted to pick a very, _very_ expensive car to sell. You're going to make a lot of money off of it, so you're very excited about picking up this new car. But there was a screwup, and a group of the scariest kids at your school are also there to pick up the same expensive car to sell. What do you think would happen?"

"Negotiation?"

"No, no. Think about the meanest kids you know, kids too mean and selfish to negotiate."

"Joffrey..." She murmured without much thinking.

"So say Joffrey and his gang wanted to sell this car to make a lot of money. What would he do to get it?"

"... Get rid of us?"

"Exactly." He took a bit of chicken, the heat of it reddening his face. "He'd try to get rid of you. Well, the gang got into a... Fight with me and my friends. I lost a friend that day, gods know I'll never forget that."

"They _killed_ him?" She was mortified. So many wonderful people in the world, and yet he had chanced upon some of the worst! It was so shocking that she became even more invested in the story, oddly.

"Yes, they did. And after that, they got a hold of me, and took me away to some other place. 'Course it had to be me, knowing my luck, but nowadays I'm grateful that it hadn't been one of my brothers. But yes, they took me to this place- a dark place that smelled like mildew and rat shit and vermin."

"Oh my!" Davos laughed.

"Yes, it was bad." He said this with a smile. "Very bad, but that wasn't the worst part."

"What was the worst part?" She already knew.

"I'm getting there. Patience, young one. So, here's the part you've been waiting for: they tied me up, held me down, and sawed away at the fingers on my right hand with the kind of knife you'd find in your kitchen." His eyes fell onto the meal before him. "Gods... I don't think I'm very hungry anymore..." Her face dropped. What had she been thinking, bringing this up while they were having a meal. She felt small and ashamed, and he noticed almost immediately.

"No, no, it's not you, Shireen. I was just thinking about the pain." His brows furrowed as if he had said something wrong. She forked up a bit of rice while he had his moment. "You know, Shireen," he said after the moment of silence, "you remind me of Dev when he was around your age. Cheerful, energetic... I suppose he's still a bit like that, but I think he's mellowed out a lot. Teenagers... I wish I could go back to those days." She didn't know what to say to this, so she merely grinned and kept eating.

"Don't grow up too fast, Shireen. I'm telling you, one day you'll be young, carefree and oblivious, and next thing you know, you'll be old and tired like me." He sipped his soda and grimaced at the taste- she had meant to tell him that it wouldn't be a good idea to buy soda with spicy food, but had forgotten soon after the thought came to her.

"You're not old, Mr. Seaworth. And you don't seem very tired!" This time, his smile was sad and sentimental. It was strange, she had never seen this side of him before. Although she had never thought him of ever being less so, it made him seem more human. It reminded her that she was not the only person who hurt sometimes. She looked around her at the people chatting over food, eating alone... They could all have grievances worse than her own, and it would never show. The thought scared her. You just never knew...

"I suppose I'm not as tired as I used to be. Not in the least." Just then, he jolted as if shocked by something minor and drew out his phone a moment later. Shireen decided to sift through her purchases as he conversed. A book, a pair of earphones, a set of charcoal pencils for sketching, a scrapbooking kit, and new hair accessories. She had spend forty-five of her sixty dragons, and despite wanting to go through more of the mall, she planned on saving the rest. She just couldn't wait to get home and look and her new stuff. It really did feel good to receive every once in a while. Finally, Davos hung up the phone.

"Well, we've got to go pick up your father. Says he's gotten himself kicked out of the bookstore."

_"Again?"_

"Well, if this has happened before, apparently. You done eating?" She looked down at her unfinished platter.

"Yeah, I'm all set. I'll just take the rest home."

Their leftovers were promptly and properly contained within the their styrofoam confinements, and after ensuring that the containers were completely secure, Shireen and Davos made their way back East to the bookstore. Shireen hoped Stannis hadn't made a fool of himself.

For such a serious guy, her father did that much too often.

\--

"Over _war poetry?_ You got into a fight over _war poetry?"_ Davos was clearly bewildered, but Stannis wasn't phased in the least. Shireen herself was still embarrassed by the whole ordeal; she and Davos had found him sitting on a couch, reading just outside the store with some personnel keeping a not-so-discreet eye on him. She had felt their stares burning the back of her head even after they left.

"I did. The other person told me that I was a lazy reader, and that the way I had interpreted the poem was shallow, underdeveloped, and careless. I let them know _very clearly_ that I am a well educated man that that they, on the other hand, had over-interpreted the piece, probably to make themselves seem scholarly and philosophical." He shook his head. "Damn shame, the lengths people will go to in order to impress another." The ice crystals left his lips in angry puffs of  cloud and dispersed like smoke into the atmosphere. It wasn't very late, but the sun had long set, triggering Shireen's instinctual need to be somewhere warm, and well-lit. She tapped her father's arm, a signal that he knew meant that she was done.

"Well, Davos it's been a pleasure. Thank you for spending time with Shireen."

"It's no problem. She's wonderful to hang out with." He bent down to kiss her on the forehead, and she threw her arms around him to embrace him warmly. The hug shared between he and Stannis lasted almost uncomfortably long- had it been anyone else, Stannis would have verbally protested.

"Well, I'll see you guys soon, I suppose. I'll make sure to read your book, alright Shireen? And feel free to hound me about finishing it so that we can talk about it."

The man had put up his hood and was ready to depart when Stannis put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him to a halt.

"Before you go," he said in a voice almost quiet as a whisper. "I have something very important to propose... I suppose I can text you, or call, so keep watching your phone."

Davos merely nodded, and after gazing at the other for a moment, adjusted his hood once more.

"I'll do just that. Thank you." He kissed Stannis on the cheek and was on his way.

"It's cold," Shireen complained through chattering teeth. Her nose was dripping but it was too cold to feel it. Winter had truly come, and yet inside, she did not feel cold.

She knew exactly why.

\--

It as a little past eight when Davos received the long text message on his phone. Scrolling through, he knew it would be nightmarish to get through, and he was tired after drinking one too many glasses of wine. He called his son over to read it aloud to him as he sunk deeper into the soft cushions of their couch.

The boy read out for two minutes, pausing and looking to his father when he too was shocked by the content. Davos did not react.

When he had finished reading the message a second time, the man was staring at the wall, his lips parted but no sounds escaping them.

He asked Devan to read it a third time, for confirmation. He had to be dreaming. There was no way it could have been true.

Absolutely no goddamn way in the seven _hells_ could this be happening.

 ****  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so here's what went down:  
> \- School got insanely busy (no surprise there)  
> \- I watched episode 9 :)  
> \- I got sad, then angry enough to put off writing for a few days, then got sad again  
> \- I stopped chapter 11 and decided to write this one last minute  
> \- I got my first job! So I was busy with that, too  
> \- Finals started. In fact, I should be studying RIGHT NOW!!  
> \- I watched episode 10 :) can't even bring myself to be angry anymore. Whatever happens in the show happens in the show. Whatever. It's cool. 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, though! Our girl needs some love!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter... Is so long.
> 
> Don't watch Antfarm Dickhole.

It is well believed among like-minded individuals that money does not equate happiness, and happiness is not rooted in materialism. Davos Seaworth, the freshly promoted sous chef of the Highgarden Bistro at King's Landing, personally believed that money _did_ in fact play a significant role in one's happiness. The sullen grey skies of the southern spring wept on his head and coat, chilling him to the core and forcing him to hasten his pace. As irritating and dreary rainy weather was, it did well in keeping his allergies at bay. He was thankful for that, since he found that pollen irritated him more and more with each passing year.

Passing year... It had been over a year since Davos had started this job. He had been a simple line chef, making mere salads at first, and moving up in the ranks (if one could even call it that) until he had been promoted recently to sous chef by Olenna Tyrell herself. Despite being hours apart - she situated in Highgarden while he remained in the Landing - the woman had taken quite the liking to her crippled new recruit, and had kept a stern eye on his activities. The majority of his coworkers disliked him, but he had triumphed over them nonetheless, earning him higher pay and more opportunities for him and his son.

Devan, now finished with his sophomore year, was finding himself more and more excited about the prospect of college. Davos had asked on several occasions what he wanted to study, but the boy had always shrugged and returned to watching TV and eating some sort of junk food straight from the box, picking crumbs from his varsity sweatshirt. Ever since he had made the varsity team, he had begun wearing his sweatshirt and pants almost everywhere. Some days, he took a wet cloth and gently wiped the dirt from the 'SEAWORTH' logo on the back. Although the boy was never meticulous by nature, Davos tried his best not to disturb his process.

The man slid his phone from his pocket, pleased to find that the notification light was blinking. He found that he had three texts waiting for him, two from Devan and one from one of his school friends.

_\- hey dad robb came down from the north to visit sansa so i'm going to be out with them until tonight. i'll be back at 10 have fun in class_

_\- also I ate the leftovers. sorry. i left some for you._

Davos texted his son back promptly:

_It's alright Dev. Have fun and be safe._

He then opened the text from Robb Stark.

_\- Good afternoon Mr. S. I came down from the Uni of Winterfell to visit my little sister and Devan is safe with me, in my hands, now. We're currently in the line waiting to buy movie tickets. No alcohol, no drugs, unless you consider smuggling snacks in from the grocery store a major crime. I'll drop him off at 10. ~Robb Stark_

Davos couldn't help but laugh out loud.

_Ok Robb have fun. Please tell Dev to go easy on the snacks._

_\- Will do. ~Robb Stark_

Davos glanced at the time. He still had time to quickly stop home and check up on their progress before heading off to his GED class. It had been so long that he had forgotten how stressful moving was; it was both physically and emotionally strenuous, requiring both sufficient strength and emotional detachment, the temporary abandonment of sentimentality. If he clutched his memories too tightly to his chest, he may become one with them, holding him back from leaving the apartment he had resided in for over ten years.

Devan had been especially saddened by the news, though he at first was ecstatic in his own little way. He still remembered his face when he had asked if he'd have to leave his friends behind and start high school anew. Back then, Davos had shrugged, expressing to his son that sometimes change came suddenly, and that people had to work with what they had and be happy with it. He hated having to be blunt, but nothing had been mapped out initially, and he wasn't even sure if they would actually be moving in the first place.

In the end, it had been decided that despite it being inconvenient for both father and son, the daily commute would be braved by them both every morning, so as to share the pain and misery of having to wake up at an ungodly hour too soon after the setting of the sun, and too far before even the cock could open its eyes and think to crow.

“Plus,” Davos had added enthusiastically, “it’ll give us some time to bond in the morning.”

Devan hadn’t been very keen on the prospect at first, but reassured himself with the assurance of being able to remain at his school until graduation. In the end, everyone had been happy, and Davos could ask for nothing more than that.

The annual long school break had brought upon an onslaught of tourists, congesting the streets of King’s Landing and crowding the subways with all sorts of different people. Davos found it increasingly difficult to find a seat each day, and more oft than not found himself gripping an overhand grip with his left hand while clutching his nightly leftovers with his other; he had forced himself to stop tying the bag around his wrist, for it restricted his bloodflow a great deal and made his maimed hand feel uncomfortably numb. Every day he prayed to the Seven that he wouldn't drop his food, splattering it all over the moving car and all over some unsuspecting civilian. That day would surely prove to be the death of him.

Driven by an unusual giddiness, Davos couldn’t wait to exit the train and return home. The atmosphere in the overcrowded car was uncomfortably humid, and he felt as if his lungs were filling themselves to the brim with vapor. He knew that he should have simply taken the time to walk home, but knew that the chance of having his possessions knocked from his hands was at a solid 80%. Such was the reality of King’s Landing, and because it was quite a troublesome one, there were ways around it. Gods, the subway smelled dirty, and the added moisture and body heat made it no better. He wanted to return to his home, to Stannis, even if just for a while.

After half a millennia, the man arrived at his stop. Although reluctant to be rude, he was forced to push his way through the herd of people to exit onto the platform. To his utter dismay, the rain dripped off of his hood and into his eyes as he navigated the sidewalk to the front entryway of his apartment, the wind making the situation no better. He soon found himself safe at home - whether it was his room or Stannis’s arms he did not know. Stannis, however, was not exactly thrilled about being embraced by a man in a wet raincoat.

“Gods, at least hang up your coat before you go an do that.” Stannis complained, scowling and brushing off the front of his sweater as if it would do anything to dry it.

“Stop being so negative. I’ve missed you.”

“We saw each other last night, and we’ve been texting damn near all day.”

Davos smiled, sliding his rain-beaded plastic bag of food into the fridge, shedding his coat, and dropping it at his feet. Once he heard Stannis clear his throat, however, he quickly moved to pick the garment back up and hung it on the doorknob. Stannis returned to lining a big box with newspaper.

“Where’s Devan?” He inquired, pulling a stick of peppermint gum from his pocket and placing it on his tongue. "I thought he'd be home by now."

“Out with friends." He replied. "They’ll be back around ten tonight.” Stannis looked astonished for a brief moment, but soon after his faced returned to that of comfortable stoicness. Davos had learned to appreciate that face, for it meant Stannis was not in a foul mood, which surprisingly occurred more than he expected. All it took was a blunder in the sales department at his job and the man was ready to call Davos up and complain about _everything_ for a solid half hour, and then do so again if they saw each other the same day. Not that he minded.

"You just let him go out on his own like that?" He asked, trying hard to mask the surprise in his voice but failing miserably. "I mean. He's a _teenager_."

"Yes, but he's a good kid, and the Starks are too. I trust them enough to keep him safe. Devan's sixteen now, he's allowed to have a bit of fun while he still can."

"There's no guarantee that it's innocent."

"I trust him." The other shrugged.

"I see." Stannis did his best to stuff a down comforter into a box, then with effort and an excess of elbow grease, was able to tape it down without the thing bursting at the corners. Davos grabbed another box from the stack in the corner and began shoving clothing into it, only to receive a curt look from his partner. Reluctantly, Davos re-emptied the box and proceeded to painstakingly fold each garment, his shortened fingers making the task unnecessarily frustrating. Gods, if only he could have three wishes...

"I have class in an hour, you know," he murmured, holding in his hand the tie that Stannis had given him the night before his long-ago job interview. The thing was still in pristine condition, having been stored in one of Davos's drawers since that day.

"I know. I'll have to leave when you do. Don't want to keep Dr. Cressen waiting."

"I only need a half hour to get to class." Davos saw in Stannis's eyes that he knew what that meant, but continued to feign ignorance nonetheless.

"Fix your dinner, then, otherwise you'll be late." Davos rolled his eyes and fervently grabbed Stannis’s hand, which earned him a soft little sigh of false exasperation, followed by a glance tinged with the faint glimmer of excitement. The look was brief, but it was enough for Davos to register as permission to advance. And so he did just that.

They remained right there on the floor, Davos lying on his back while Stannis positioned himself, straddling his hips and looking at the wall as if something troublesome were on his mind.

"What's the matter?" Davos asked, sliding his hands up and down Stannis’s clothed waist. They hadn't even begun undressing, and yet he could already feel a certain heat in the pit of his stomach.

"The lights. I want them off."

"Aw, you don't want to see me?" He ran his hands up from below the bottom of Stannis’s shirt, slowly pushing it up from the cold, pale skin that lay just underneath.

"Don't be ridiculous," Stannis retorted, his face hard but his eyes gentle, "This position is just... I'll turn them off." Davos lay there impatiently as Stannis got up, stretched, turned off the lights, and made his way back to reposition himself once again.

He unfastened and cast to the side Stannis's belt, requiring only slight assistance; his shirt followed not-so-soon after. Why did this guy even bother with button-down shirts? Stannis in button-downs was his least favorite aspect of spring, save for the pollen.

Davos pressed lightly on the other man's body, urging him to come closer, to lower himself into a kiss, and despite the lack of speaking, he did just that. His kisses began as lingering pecks to the jaw, the cheeks, the lips, and progressed into something sloppier, clumsier, and strangely more romantic. Davos ran his palms up and down Stannis's slight chest, feeling every prickle of gooseflesh, every protruding hair on his skin, taking in the closeness he hoped would last forever. Teeth and tongues meeting, the darkness of the room heightened the sensation of having Stannis's tongue in his mouth, and every finger the man pressed against him sent tingles down his spine.

Jerkily, clumsily, Davos yanked Stannis’s pants down his waist, his own neglected erection straining against his boxers as Stannis moaned breathily against his neck. He almost lost it then and there when he heard him breathe his name, quieter than a whisper. Stannis was not to sort of man to express feelings of embarrassment, but it didn’t take a detective to know why Stannis went out of his way to avoid being too loud during sex.

That being said, Davos drank in every wanton utterance his partner murmured during their intimate moments. On several occasions he had expressed to Stannis that he had no need to hold himself back, but he’d wanted to hear nothing of it. So they had left it at that.

As the two lay on the cool floor of the apartment, so immersed in the feel of each other that time itself had melted away, Stannis grabbed clumsily at Davos’s body, barely knowing where to grip. Davos found it endearing; where he was a relatively gentle lover, Stannis was rough and demanding when in charge. Despite this, the two had one thing in common: they were rather clumsy in bed, albeit for different reasons.

Stannis sat up a moment, moving so that he could kick off his pants and boxers. Davos did the same, and after putting aside the his white t-shirt, his body met Stannis’s again. The other man’s back arched when the fingers traced his spine.

  
Davos lay back down, pulling Stannis down with him. The floor was  much too cold against his bare skin, but he paid it no mind. His focus was Stannis, _his_ Stannis, and…

“Shoot,” he muttered, passing fingers through his lover’s hair. “Did you already pack the stuff from the bathroom?” He looked up into the man’s deep-set eyes, which seemed, somehow, to shine in spite of the black darkness surrounding them.

  
“Some of it. Not all of it.” It seemed to click just then. “Oh. The lubricant.” Another pause. “I wasn’t thinking, so if I packed it I didn’t notice.” He stood then, and Davos rolled his eyes in frustration. Seven save him, could they have sex once without running into some sort of inconvenient little obstacle? He only had a few minutes to spare before he’d have to get his stuff and leave for class. He could hear Stannis stumbling in the darkness, not accustomed to the boxes strewn about.

“Just turn on the light,” Davos called after hearing him trip. He had to stop himself from laughing aloud.

“I’m fine,” Stannis said back, though he didn’t sound it. It took him a few seconds more to find his way to the bathroom. He had to rummage for a few minutes before he emerged triumphant.

“It was in there. Not much left, though. I can order some online some time this week.”

“Why not just go to the store and buy some?” Davos asked, only half-teasing.

“What makes you think I’d want to embarrass myself like that?” He smiled, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Gods, settle down. I was just messing with you.” Stannis did not answer, but made his way back to where Davos was.

“We should just do this on the couch.” He stated, tapping the other lightly on the shoulder. Davos hoisted himself to his feet, and with that, the two crossed the treacherous way to the couch, practically falling onto it once they had found their way. The pale moonlight streaming through the spaces in the blinds was just enough for him to be able to see Stannis’s face, tinged a blue suiting of his eyes. With just a tinge of haste, Davos took Stannis’s hardness into his hand, stroking it with just a bit of firmness.

“Davos,” the man practically growled, staring down at him with half-lidded eyes, “use lube. And hurry up. You have to leave soon.”

“It’s fine, I can be a little late.” He spread the cold liquid onto his hand.

“You shouldn’t, though. Why d-” He emitted a sharp gasp as Davos took him in his cold fist and began pumping slowly and firmly with no rhyme or rhythm. Stannis trembled from above him, threatening to collapse onto his chest. _“Fuck…”_ He moaned through clenched teeth. _“Davos…”_

Davos pulled the other down into another kiss, sloppy and filled with lust. Stannis held his face in his hands as he fumbled blindly for the lube, found it, and coated both his fingers and his dick. Stannis’s grip settled on Davos’s waist, almost unbearably firm as a finger entered him. He did little to stifle the groan that escaped his lips.

“Would this be a bit easier for you if you were on the bottom?” Davos asked softly, eyes closed so as to revel in the pleasure Stannis was feeling.

“No… It doesn’t matter. Just…” And Davos loyally complied. He slid another finger in, breathing in deep the scent of Stannis’s light cologne and slowly sliding his digits in and out of him. Stannis moaned louder this time, encouraging Davos to move faster, to fuck him harder. His cock was stiff with arousal, flushed against his body a tipped with precum. Beads of sweat were spattered across his forehead, practically twinkling in the moonlight. He then took his fingers out, and despite the sudden lack of stimulation, repositioned himself without a word. He lifted his hips, allowing Davos to enter him. 

  
This time, Stannis grabbed hold of the couch’s arm for stability as he rode him, his hips working slowly and anything but deftly, repositioning himself occasionally for a more preferable angle. The room was soon filled with the sound of their moans, but neither cared that they could most likely be heard through the thin walls. Right now, it was Davos and Stannis that existed, and frankly, the the rest of the world could drift off never to be seen by them again. Davos was lost in his partner, completely lost, and it wouldn’t have surprised him if he would never be found. The sweat that formed on his body was meant to cool him down, but did nothing to quench the flames of their lust.   
  
He came just a bit before Stannis, the orgasm making his muscles twitch and his mind go blank. He barely noticed when Stannis came on his stomach, sinking into him and resting his body on top of Davos’s despite the mess. Once Davos had recovered, he rested his arm over Stannis's back. He was well aware that he should have been on his way out by now, but he wanted to stay there... Even if only for a few minutes... He reached next to the couch and picked up his sheet, draping it over then best as he could.

"So," he began, feeling the need to end their silent afterglow, "the guy finally came to pick up the mattresses. Took a while." He observed, pulling the sheet high enough to cover about half his face. The sweat on his body made him wary of every wayward breeze that entered the room from gods know where. Stannis turned from him, burying his nose into the back of the couch.

"Yeah," he responded, voice muffled. "He paid in cash. Decided to buy _both_ of them, so I had to call the _other_ buyer and essentially tell her to piss off."

"Tragic, but that's just how the game goes sometimes. When's that kid going to come pick up the couch?"

"Um, tomorrow, I think."

"Alright. I'm getting two hundred out of that one. I should have sold all my furniture a long time ago."

"I suppose I could clean the couch up for you tonight."

"Why?" Davos yawned. Damn, he could really use a nap.

"Davos. We've had sex on this couch on many occasions."

"Oh."

For a number of minutes, the two laid in perfect peace, not saying a word but thinking back, thinking forward, and just getting lost in their minds and memories. By the time Davos had surfaced from his blissful trance, it was much too late for him to hope to get to class on time. Time really _did_ fly...

It only took him a few minutes to clean up, redress and brush his teeth, but gathering his belongings was another story. The chaos of being half-packed to move had made it difficult to find anything placed within the past couple of days, and despite their being in such a cramped space, Davos had to carefully sift through a pile of junk just to find his backpack.

"Night, Stannis." He called halfway through the door. Stannis waved him off silently, obviously fatigued.

Honestly, what wasn't there to love about that man?

\--

"C'mon, Robb, there's _no_ way _anyone_ could like that movie and still call themselves a decent person. I thought you didn't like comedies in the first place."

"Sansa," Robb said, putting down his Big Mac and staring her straight in the face. "It's not meant to be a comedy. It's supposed to be scary." Devan, a spectator to this exchange, was enjoying himself very much.  

"You thought it was funny!"

"It was!"

"It was disgusting, that's what it was!"

"Dev," Robb turned to him suddenly, forcing him to swallow his mouthful of milkshake. "Have you seen _Antfarm Dickhole?"_

"Why in hell would I watch a movie like that? Why would _you?"_ Robb rolled his eyes.

"As a joke, obviously! I really only watch war movies, so why not amuse myself for a change?"

Devan grinned, rolling his eyes and turning his attention to the hordes of people flowing in and out of the fast food restaurant. There seemed to be so many people coming and going... Part of him was astonished that he hadn't already seen half the population of Westeros. He took another sip of his vanilla shake. It was going too fast. He'd probably need another one soon.

"Let's talk about something else," Sansa suggested easily, continuing to push uninterestedly at her chicken salad. "Dev, have you ever seen _Bride Wars?"_ Devan finished off the last of his beverage. Oh, Sansa and her chick flicks.

"Nah, I don't really like-" That's when _she_ walked in the door looking intelligent and dignified and beautiful as ever. "Miss Melisandre!" He called, waving almost frantically. She looked at him as if she had been caught doing something schemy but made her way over swiftly. Robb and Sansa were both silent, staring.

"Fancy meeting you here, Devan." Her voice was a song, lifting the boy's very soul with its enchanting notes. He loved hearing her preach almost as much as he loved the tricks she could do with fire. "Having a meal with some friends?"

"I am." He replied, suddenly uneasy. He always felt a bit uncomfortable in her presence, though it was not from contempt or malice. "H-how about you? I mean, not the part about being with friends, but the part about getting a meal." God, how humiliating... Talking to her had been so much easier when he was younger...

"No, no. I came in to... Use the bathroom." She glanced quickly at the two Starks looking up at her, then back at Devan.

"Sorry. Um," he said frantically, embarrassed at his lack of courtesy. "Sans, Robb, this is Miss Melisandre, my priestess. Miss Melisandre, this is Sansa Stark and this is Robb Stark, a couple of friends of mine."

"Winterfell?"

"Yes." Robb confirmed, chewing on a couple of fries. "That's right. Nice to meet you." She nodded, then returned her attention to Devan.

"Actually, I'm glad that I ran into you here. Would you mind it if I spoke to you in private? It won't be for long." Devan felt a surge of excitement that quickly diminished when he looked at his friends. They looked unsure, though he did not blame them; the red woman _was_ eccentric in attire, he had to admit. He saw her so often that he had forgotten that it was strange to wear only red clothing. Devan stood, taking his empty cup with him.

"I guess I'll be back in a few, guys." He apologized. The two nodded, understanding, and so the boy with the mop of brown hair got up to follow his red woman. They situated themselves at a crumb-covered table near the rain-spattered front windows of the restaurant.

"Devan, you are a devout follower of R'hllor and one of the most consistent attendees to my services. And I thank you for that." She began, meeting his gaze with a warm grin. She was gorgeous, simply beautiful, and Devan could do nothing to prevent the crimson blush that spread across his features.

"It's no problem, Miss, but... I'm moving soon. To Dragonstone. Next door to you, actually." It was enough having to commute to school every morning, but for worship as well? If only services didn't begin after his dad got off of work. "It may be difficult to get down. For services." Get down. Why did he say get down? What was he doing, dancing?

"Why not commute with me?"

"I'll be coming down to King's Landing for school every morning with my dad, but he usually leaves work before service begins."

"Shame. Well," She glanced at the growing line of hungry people waiting to order their meals. "I suppose we could sort something out some other time. I actually came with a proposition in mind. You don't have any big plans for your long break, do you?"

"No. I'll be turning sixteen, so looking for work, I guess."

"How would you like to come with me to Old Volantis and train to be an acolyte?" She smiled, resting her chin on her folded hands. Devan had to do everything in his power to keep his jaw from dropping. Sure, it was a dream come true, but _him_ , an _acolyte?_ Surely there had to be _someone_ that she knew more befitting of the job. Besides, there was no way in any hell his dad could afford to buy him a ticket to Essos, no matter how much of their furniture he sold.

"We can't afford that. I'm sorry, Miss."

"Devan, it's a completely funded trip. All you'd need to worry about is packing the right attire. Volantis is hot, and the Temple is hotter, though I'm sure your robes will be comfortable enough."

"I see..." He thought for a moment. An entire break, getting closer to the Red God overseas... But his father... "I'll definitely give it some thought. Th-thank you..." Melisandre smiled brightly, placing a hot hand over his. He glanced to the right, suddenly uncomfortable.

"It's no trouble. Will you be attending service tomorrow?"

"I would, but I can't miss my game. It's one of first of the new season."

"I understand. Good luck." She rose swiftly, then reached into her purse after observing him for another moment. She hesitated, and then proceeded towards the women's restroom. He decided to take the time to order another milkshake - strawberry this time.

He was still in line when the woman emerged and joined the ever-growing queue. She hadn't seen him. He smiled to himself, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

Perhaps he'd treat her to a shake, too. It was the least he could do for all she had done for him.

\--

Stannis knew that he should have been well on his way home, but he was preoccupied in more ways than one. While packing more stuff away, he had found Davos's diary, and though it contradicted his morals, he had taken some time to go through it.

It felt like it had been so long since they had first met, since they had shared their first kiss. So long since Devan had regarded him with dislike, and then months later, written him a formal and well-written letter thanking him for all he had done for his father... Now they were here. Shireen was nearly a teenager, Devan almost sixteen, and he and Davos were practically a married couple, lacking only the formal documents to prove it... Could they ever...?

For the first time in many years, Stannis's heart was heavy. He missed the days where Davos would rush to his home, never punctual and eager to learn. In fact, both of them had learned a great deal that year; one learnt to read and the other to love, and Stannis could not have asked for happier days.

He looked over at the time- oh, it was late, much too late, and he had to get home to his daughter. Stannis dropped the journal into his satchel, put on his coat, and headed out, checking twice to make sure Davos's door was locked.

The ride home seemed to take too long, and the mud-slicked path to his front door made it no easier, but he was home at last. He paid Cressen and sent the old man on his way, feeling slightly bad for forcing the man to up and down that walkway on a daily basis. Well, the man needn't worry about that much longer. With the Seaworths moving in and Shireen growing older, his services would no longer be needed. It felt like the end of a chapter was coming, and fast. Much too fast.

When he checked to see if the living room lights were off, he discovered Shireen passed-out on the couch. Stannis carried her up the flight of stairs, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight before going down into his study.

He turned on his desk lamp, pulled Davos's battered journal from his bag, and began read. The man's writing was strange. Sometimes it was poetic and read like a story. Other times, it read like a diary, retelling recent events in an informal fashion. He even wrote lists, particularly when he was exhausted, he observed.

  * _That idiot with the arm tattoo that works the register sometimes. Fuck him._

  * _That woman who chewed out one of our waitresses because her food wasn't hot enough, fuck her too. Your You're not Gordon Ramsay. You fucking donkey._




Davos had clearly been livid that day. At the bottom of the page, Devan had sketched Chef Ramsay squatting to shit on a plate of pasta.

Stannis turned the page.

_______ 11, ______

_Dev just finished up his freshman year and has been lazing around the apartment for 3 days now. He told me that he's not in the mood for hanging out with his friends. Should I be worried? I think he may be sad about Gendry's graduation. They were pretty close._

Stannis smiled. He remembered when he and Davos had gone over that entry. They had discussed the matter for quite some time, and the night had ended with them drinking hot cider and watching _300_. He decided to flip back a few weeks. He was surprised to find that he had never read these entries before.

__________ 3, ______

_So hung over. In a lot of pain. I got the job and me and Sal got sooooo drunk. The moon has crashed in to my skull. I can't remember the last time I had been that drunk. The intervew interview was good, and the food was to. Olena (Olenna maybe) was a very kind lady. I may have gotten the job just because she liked me. Lets hope that isn't the case. Well that's not so bad._

___________ 9, ______

_Today was life-changing. Stan and Shireen and I went out to the mall. Dev couldn't come because of sports. That kid is always running around doing some kind of sport. Shireen was ~~disapoin~~ upset that he was not with us but we still had a great time. We got books and ice cream and fast food _ (Stannis would have to go over commas with Davos again, it appeared) _and she got herself some other stuff. It was a really good day even though Stannis stayed at the book store because he wanted to read. Which is fine. We spend a lot of time together anyway.  Then after we left, Stannis told me that he would text me something important. I didn't know it would be THAT important._

_I thought it was odd of him to tell me the news through a text. I guess its his personality. Well I don't know. He usually just says stuff to my face or on the phone. He does not like texting much even though we do it a lot. I still don't know why he would text asking me and Dev to live with them._

_I think I had Devan read those messages out 5 or 6 times before I could even ~~accept~~ accept its ligitimacy. It was a serreal advance on his part, and I was not sure what to say once Dev got tired of reading it._

_It's a tough ~~desi~~ (fuck it) choice to have to make what with my new job and Dev's school. I hope Stannis understands that I need a few days to think._

___________ 12, ______

_It took me 3 days to reply. I just called. We talked for hours and got into a couple of arguments. I lost two times. Who in the 7 fresh hells is capable of winning an argument against this man?_ (This made Stannis grin.) _I think we may move. This place holds a lot of memorys for me, but for every positive memory there are 10 cockroaches which is fucking disgusting. I wonder how Dev will handle the news. It's kind of hard having to start school again in the middle of high school. A big part of me does not want to do that to him._

The editor in Stannis wanted to wreak havoc on these entries, but his moral conscience told him that he shouldn't touch it. Davos most likely had no idea where his journal was. Besides, every man's journal is a sacred place.

"Dad?" A groggy voice sounded from behind him, and the man swiveled around to meet it.

"Shireen, I know it's break, but you should try and get some rest." Stannis reached out to fix her hair but decided against it. She often styled it in a way that covered her ears, though the bullying ended years ago.

"I'm not tired. I just slept." His daughter rebutted, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Fine. I'm just reading Dav's journal. You can pull up a chair."

"You're reading it without him here?" She sounded amused. He couldn't help but smile.

"I am. Don't tell him." She giggled. Gods, the girl would be 13 soon. Too soon. He felt like an old man.

"Can I get us some cake from the fridge?" She asked, rocking back and forth on her heels. Stannis hesitated before answering; he did not want cake, especially at 9 at night, but he did not want to disappoint his daughter all the same. Besides, it was damn good cake. Shireen had many gifts, baking being one of them. It made him so proud.

"Sure. You can get out the ice cream, too." It took her about ten minutes to do so, and by the time she had returned, plates heaped with too much dessert, Stannis had gone through two more entries, one formal and the other frantic.

"Shireen, this is too much," he complained, taking the fork and plate from her anyway.

"I'll eat whatever you don't."

"I doubt that."

"I'll try!" She put her plate down on his desk and dragged the loveseat halfway across the room so that she could sit next to him.

"Dad, you look sad." She observed quietly. "Shouldn't you be excited? They're coming in two days!"

"I'm not feeling sad. Just... Nostalgic."

She leaned on him best as she could. "Why?"

"I don’t know. Just reading this journal and thinking back a year ago. Things were a lot different, then."

"Yeah but I mean..." She took a moment to chew and swallow. "They're going to be living with us, so they'll be here all the time."

"It's not the same. Tutoring was relatively fun." It had been, from the frustration to the exhaustion and eventually, triumph, he could not recall a single night where he hadn't enjoyed himself.

"Why not tutor others, then?" She asked. Stannis scraped some ice cream off of his cake before eating it.

"I don't have the patience for that. No." She laughed.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Shireen?"

"Do... You think you'll get married again?" He was caught completely off guard. The possibility had always been floating in the back of his mind. That's why people dated, right? To get married. But people married to have kids, and he and Davos clearly would not be doing that.

Marriages were also to seal a sacred pact, to strengthen the bond between two people in love. It was a promise to always remain beside your spouse, and to aid them in anything that came their way. But Stannis knew well that such promises could be undone; he was no stranger to the process.

"Dad?" Stannis snapped back to reality.

"Marriage isn't... A necessity." This made the girl frown.

"Have you at least thought about it?"

"Once or twice... Why don't we discuss something else?"

"Because I want to know! You two are clearly happy, so why not?" Was he really discussing this with a girl who wasn't even thirteen? Part of him wanted to wave her off, to steer the conversation into a more comfortable territory, but her point truly was thought-provoking. He and Davos had deliberately avoided the M-word in conversation, silently branding it as taboo when spoken of in the future tense. And which of the two would propose? He wouldn't want to have Davos bear the brunt of having to purchase a ring. That being said, it would have to be his move, and Stannis knew himself well enough to know that it'd be a while before he took such a large step. He almost asked why Shireen was being so adamant, but then decided against it.

"It's only been a year and a half, Shireen." He rubbed the top of her head. "I'd much rather place my focus on what's happening now, rather than the far future." Shireen seemed poised to argue, but simply shrugged the subject off.

"Can I finish your dessert?"

He slid it over to her, and he resumed his reading. His daughter deserved the extra treat. She had gotten him to think about a lot tonight.

\--

"I don't like lifting," Sansa complained, "Dev, you didn't tell me we'd have to lift heavy stuff." Devan sighed, raising his eyebrows in exaggerated disbelief.

"Not only do we have to _lift_ heavy stuff, we have to move it too. We should start." His son's determination made Davos smile.

It was moving day, the day he had been both dreading and anticipating. All of their stuff was packed, from their clothing to their nonperishables. That left the hard part: transporting all of this shit down the stairs and into the truck. For this task, he couldn't have asked for a better crew- a bunch of teenagers and a pre-teen. Devan, his friends Sansa and Gendry Waters, as well as Shireen were going to serve as their moving crew. Actually, there was supposed to be another member, but he was running awfully late...

"Gendry, you can handle some of the heavier stuff, right? You seem like a strong young man."

"Yeah, I can do that." He picked up a large box, hoisting it up as if it were a small child. Gods, this kid was pretty built for nineteen. Even Davos himself would have struggled with that one.

"Gendry, stop showing the hell off, man," Devan punched his friend's shoulder, upsetting his balance. Everyone waited for Gendry to fall, but he kept his footing nonetheless.

"I'll head downstairs," he announced, his voice hard and unamused. Devan grabbed up a box as well, scurrying after his friend. Davos has always wondered how the two boys, so very different in age and nature, got along so well.

"Well, Sansa, Shireen, I don't expect you to exert yourselves. Just take whatever you can manage, alright?" The two girls nodded, one grabbing a cooler of frozen food and the other a box of clothing. They too went out of the door, chatting about personality quizzes or something, and leaving him alone in the room. Oh, where to begin... It was a damn shame Stannis had to be at work; they were in the finishing stages of their most recent textbook, so he had begun going in for overtime.

"Where the fuck is-" That was when he heard the already ajar door creak open. He turned around, checking to see if it was Devan, but was surprised to find his favorite Lyseni pirate standing in his doorway, grinning.

"You're fucking late, Sal." He grinned, pulling his friend into a strong embrace.

"Hey, I'm not being paid for this, so what did you expect?" He looked around at the mess. "Who knew your broke ass would have all of this junk. Let's get to work, shall we?" He and Davos grabbed what they could and headed out.

"We have a bunch of kids working with us, so get ready for that." Davos grunted under the weight of the box. He should have left this one for Gendry...

"I know," Sal replied in that thick accent of his. "I saw them coming down the stairs. You've got yourself a solid pre-pubescent crew." He opened the stair door with a finger and kicked it open with his foot. "So, where's the big man?" Sal's voice echoed around them as they made their way down the building's poorly-lit stairwell.

"He's working overtime."

"I bet he's feeling just joyful."

"Why would you say that?" The other man gave him a look.

"You know he doesn't like me, Dav."

"He... Doesn't hate you. Be grateful for that." The two exited the building to find the kids hanging out around the back of the van. Shireen was running up and down the ramp while Gendry and Devan were jumping off the highest point. They didn't even try and pretend to be productive.

"See?" Sal tried to point despite his full arms. "They aren't doing shit!"

"What are you guys doing?" Davos called. The heavy box was slipping from his fingers- he'd need to put it down soon. He sauntered over to the back of the trucks, his gait awkward from the weight.

"Nothing!" Shireen answered, running down the ramp again.

"Gendry, take this box for me. Thanks." He stretched while the boy loaded the object into the truck. Salladhor did the same, noticeably struggling more than Davos.

Davos needed to get these kids working. The last thing he wanted to hear was Stannis complain about not moving on time.

"Let's get moving," Davos called out, "Salla promises to pay you twenty dragons each if you do."

That got them scrambling. Sal shot him a look.

"You son of a bitch bastard..."

With snack breaks included, it took three hours to move everything into the van. It was hard to believe that he and his son's entire life was stowed away in that van, and the thought made a sentimental dejection wash over him like a tidal wave of melancholy blue. As Sal tried to rally up and organize the group of rascals, he made his final journey up the all-too familiar stairwell and back into the hallway he had passed through absentmindedly for over a decade. He didn't notice that his son followed him up until he stood cross-armed next to him. Devan was taller than him now. It almost hurt to think about.

With a deep intake of breath, Davos swung his door open one last time, his brown eyes sweeping around the empty room. It seemed much larger now that it lacked furniture. What was he feeling right now? Sadness? Relief? Attachment, or maybe an impending sense of irretrievable loss? He took a step in.

Slowly, he went over to his outdated stove and touched a cold burner. This was the same stove that he had stood before, vegetables boiling down to mush in a pot while he had held an infant Devan in his arms, shedding silent tears for Marya, and the death of their relationship.

 _I should have been a better husband. Sorry, Marya._ He hoped that wherever she was, she was happy, financially stable and free of worry.

He opened and shut their oven door. This was the stove where Devan had burned his finger, and where Stannis had charred their grilled cheese sandwiches. The same stove that had nearly burst into flames from an oil spill and had fed his small family for so many long years.

"Devan?" Davos asked rather softly, his voice bouncing off of the apartment's unobscured white walls. "Do you still not know what you want to do in the future?" The boy took nearly half a minute to answer.

"No. I think I know." Davos was surprised enough to turn to the boy, giving him his full attention.

"What is it you want to do?"

"... Well, there are two things. I can only tell you one now." He scratched at his incoming beard, which was no more than overgrown brown stubble. Devan was looking less of a boy each day, and it scared him. "I want to go into some form of engineering." Devan? An engineer? Davos only nodded.

"Is this because you enjoy it, or because of the money?" He had to ask. He wanted for his son to be happy, but the last thing he wanted the boy to become was a clone of his poor father.

"I don't know. Both, I guess. I like math." He looked over at his father, his expression hopeful. "Is that alright?"

"Of course it is." He smiled. "We should go."

"Wait." Devan pulled a red marker from the pocket of his coat. "Can I write something scary on the wall? For whoever moves in?"

"No, Devan."

\--

This couldn't have been safe. There had to be some sort of law that made it clear that this was illegal.

Maybe that's what made it so much fun.

Devan sat in the back of the moving truck, cross-legged and scrolling through his music library for the next song to play. Gendry, looking moody as ever, was growing impatient.

"Dev, just let me put on some damn music." He complained, tapping his fingers against a box.

"Dev has the aux cord. Don't rush him!" Sansa retorted playfully. Devan didn't think she had taken her eyes off of Gendry's arms since her arrival.

"He has shit taste." The older boy argued.

Devan pointed at Gendry, shouting: "Gendry likes screamo! Gendry likes screamo!"

"Shut your mouth. We all like rap, right? Let me put on my playlist-"

"I _hate_ rap!" Sansa protested. "Let Dev play something good."

"Sansa likes white girl music," Devan stated, finally satisfied with his queue. He put the playlist on, placing his phone in his lap. "Alright, are we all happy now?" Sansa nodded and Gendry shrugged.

"It'd be fun if we could dance in here." The girl observed.

"Sal said that if we as much as stood to relieve our aching asses he'd flay them and hoist them above the Red Keep." Devan reminded them This made Gendry laugh.

"He's funny." A pause. "Gods, it's fucking dark in here. Even with the phone light."

"I can find the lantern if you're scared." Devan teased.

"I'm not... Fuck you."

The trio sat there, listening to the music streaming quietly from his cell phone. Sometimes a box fell over, though it did not worry them. Only the boxes with light objects and clothing were stacked.

"How long until we get to Dragonstone?" Sansa asked.

"I have no idea. When did we leave?"

This time, it was Gendry who answered. "It was around four. How long does it take to get there?"

"I've only ever taken the train there, Gendo."

"Don't call me that." More silence followed. Soon, the three of them were lost in their phone screens, showing each other the occasional funny image or video. Sansa was the first to give up.

"I'm bored. Do you guys want to watch _Sleepy Hollow_ with me?"

"Have anything else?" Devan asked. Sansa shook her head.

"Well, I actually have some _Pretty Little Liars."_

"Oh."

So the three teenagers huddled around her iPad, watching the show that she had managed to download. They paused a few times so that Sansa could explain some things, and so that Devan could answer a call from his father, asking if they were okay back there.

It seemed an eternity had come and gone before they came to a complete stop and the door was hoisted open.

"Any of you dead?" The Lysene called in.

"No," Devan replied. "Not yet." They then stood and stretched for a good minute before hopping out of the truck. Gendry had to help Sansa get down, which did not upset her in the least. Devan made a mental note to inform Margaery of this petty behavior.

Unloading the truck and bringing the boxes into the home proved to be a much easier job, and by the time Stannis returned home, all stone-faced and stoic and stressed, they had already begun unpacking, Shireen dictating the whole operation.

"Hi Dad!" Shireen proceeded to hug her father, who proceeded to hug _Devan's_ father in greeting. Devan himself was content enough with the nod he received, and responded with a smile and a wave. Over time, he had learned to accept the man's stiff mannerisms; it was nothing more than a habit of comfort, and he respected that.

Devan was not only on good terms with Stannis- he respected him and everything he had done for his family. The boy was forever grateful for the 98 he had received on the essay that Stannis had edited for him.

At Stannis’s command, the group halted their activity, gathering around the large dining room table to have dinner, which was a copious amount of fast food alongside a gallon of water. Whenever Stannis bought dinner for them, he would never buy soda, or juice, or any kind of sugary drink. Just water, which was alright with Devan.

So, using paper plates and forks to serve themselves (there were too many people present to have to bother with dishes), the seven of them sat around the far right end of the table, consuming their meal in silence, waiting for _someone_ to speak up, for _someone_ to initiate conversation. Devan decided that today, he would claim that role. He had a not-so-modest proposal to make.

"Dad, umm..." They all looked up at him, and for a moment he was unnerved. "... We don't have any major plans for the long break, do we?"

"No, you know that. Why?" Devan glanced at Stannis, who's full attention was on him. He shifted, looking down at his food.

"Miss Melisandre... Invited me on a trip to Old Volantis for acolyte training. Can I go?"

 _"Old Volantis,_ Dev? Do you have any idea how much that'd cost me?" His father's face showed more concern than anger, definitely a good sign.

"It's funded by the temple. I just need luggage and a passport and..." Gendry sniggered into his fist.

"Dev, how long do you think it will take to get you a passport?" Devan did not have an answer for that. He merely shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess I was hoping that everything would work itself out."

"... I mean... Dev, how badly do you want to go?"

 _"Really_ badly, Dad!" It was true. This trip was all he could ask for; a chance to see the world, to practice faith, and to spend one-on-one time with Melisandre... It was a win-win situation, so opportunistic that it almost seemed a fraud. His dad _had_ to say yes. "Doesn't it seem ideal? I mean, I've never been out of Westeros, and I can do it _free!_ Plus it'll look excellent on my résumé and... It'd be nice to travel with Miss Melisandre... I dunno..." This received several different responses: Davos pressed his fingers against his temple, Salladhor burst out laughing, and Gendry snorted. Both Devan and Sansa flushed.

"Wh-what? What's the matter?" Why the fuck had he said that? _Why the fuck had he-_

A slight grin plastered to his broad face, Gendry mockingly wrapped his large arms around himself, feigning a passionate makeout. Devan was red as a fucking beet.

"Seven save us..." Stannis muttered, pushing his plate away.

"Oh, shut the f... Shut the hell up, Gendry!" He punched the man's shoulder, embarrassment weighing his eyes down and keeping him from looking up from his plate.  He heard Sal murmur something to his father about exotic cats or something.

"I'm changing the subject," he announced suddenly, not wanting to delve further into this toxic, evil discussion. "I heard Gendry had an STD scare after hooking up with a girl from Lannisport. Tell me, how did that feel?"

 _"Dev!"_ Davos and Sansa exclaimed, exasperated, shocked, and very much offended. Gendry sat there, his face twisting with legitimate rage. Devan was sure that if they hadn't been using plastic utensils, plenty of forks would have clattered onto plates. Stannis looked angry enough to throw his cup, and fed up enough to leave. Salladhor was laughing hard enough to shit himself.

Devan's stomach nearly seized when Gendry turned to him, his face tinged pink and his blue eyes blazing with hot blue malice. Now _why_ had he...

_"You fucking little-"_

_"Language,_ boys." Davos exclaimed. Devan glanced at Shireen. She appeared so embarrassed that he felt ashamed. What had he brought upon their innocent little housewarming banquet? Thankfully, the doorbell rang, and Stannis rose to answer it. Although the man hadn't contributed to many of their discussions, his leaving caused them all to go silent. Whoever wasn't staring at Devan was staring at Gendry. Both boys seemed fascinated by the potatoes on their plates.

"So," Sal said after a while. "Are you clean, Gendry?"

He said nothing. A moment later, Stannis returned.

"Who was it?" Davos asked, anxious to put the past occurrence behind them.

"Melisandre," he replied flatly, sifting through some papers. "She got my mail. Again."

\--

"It wasn't very funny," Stannis expressed, sipping gingerly at his ice water. He, Davos, and Salladhor were situated on the living room couch. Sports news droned on the TV, but no one paid it any mind.

"Oh, it was." Sal took a gulp of his cognac or whatever poison he was sucking down. Stannis nearly scoffed; he wasn't a big fan of Salladhor Saan or his questionable lifestyle. As much as he disliked the idea, he had to conclude that Davos's friends were his friends. Otherwise, their relationship would be rocky. Stannis felt that Dragonstone was rocky enough as it was.

"It was pretty funny, I'll admit." Davos picked up his wine, frowned, and set it down once again, leaning back against the back of the couch. "I've never heard Dev burst out like that. It gave me a shock."

"Damn near gave me a fucking aneurysm." Sal agreed. To that Stannis could not disagree. He put his head down oh Davos's shoulder, feeling unnecessarily drowsy. It was only half-past eight. He heard Sal utter a sound of disapproval.

"You two are some sappy motherfuckers. Tell me, which one of you gets horny during romcoms?" Stannis chose to ignore this, but Davos couldn't help but reply.

"Fuck you, Salladhor Saan. You're killing me here." This time he sloshed the wine around in his mouth. For a brief amount of time, Stannis craved the burn of liquor. He was then reminded of the overpowering taste, and resumed drinking his water. He had forgotten to get coasters, and the condensation formed rings on the glass surface of his coffee table.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Gendry making his way out of the kitchen, bottle in hand. How old was this kid again?

"You," he called over, "you old enough to drink that?" Gendry gave him a look that registered confusion, then looked to the drink in his hand, understanding.

"I'm nineteen," he called back. Stannis's gaze lingered for a while, eyeing the boy before he waved him off. The dark hair and blue eyes were almost chillingly similar to...

"The thing is..." Davos continued. "I'd be open to send Dev overseas... I mean it'd be an excellent opportunity for him but... I mean, with _her..."_

It was true. Melisandre wasn't a bad person. She was an ambitious woman with clear objectives. She was devout through and through, and her demeanor made her appear more mischievous than she truly was in nature. However, even after over a year of observing from a distance Devan's newfound fascination with R'hllor, he still did not know what the woman saw in him. It was strange, their relationship, yet Stannis had not once raised his voice to object to it. The two were intriguing and strangely captivating, and most of all, the boy was not his son.

Davos was going on sullenly, his voice wavering and slurred from drunkenness and drowsiness.

"... And he's my only son..." He yawned, wrapping an arm around Stannis. "And gods forbid something happen... Gods, I'm exhausted. We- we need to send these kids home."

"It'd be better if they stayed the night," Stannis nestled into Davos's t-shirt. He smelled of sweat and greasy food and alcohol, and as unpleasant as the smell was, he couldn't bring himself to care. He was definitely going to fall asleep...

When he woke up, the room was pitch black and he was alarmingly disoriented. What time was it? Why was he wearing his clothing? Where in the hells was Davos? He nearly scrambled up, looking around frantically for the clock. Finally, he found the time on the stove, which read 2:58. Gods, he had to get himself up to bed.

Stannis took a single step before he tripped over a mass on the floor. The object stirred with a disturbed snort, and after a minute, sat up. Stannis made no attempt to rise. He was much too exhausted.

"Dav, s'that you?" Stannis was upset and confused by the fall. He wanted to know where everyone was. "Where's everyone... Sleeping..." He had meant for that to be a question.

"I just gave them all rooms, if you don't mind." Davos stretched, stood. "Sansa is in Shireen's room, Gendry is in Dev's room, and Sal is in an extra room.

"Oh." Stannis rubbed his eyes. "I feel horrible."

"Let me help you up." Davos offered. Stannis did not object. The two made their way through the dark, silent home, aided only by their dilated eyes and each other. Twice they nearly tripped over boxes. The second time, the men cursed simultaneously.

They discovered once upstairs that the light in Devan's new room was still on. Laughter could be heard even through the door.  How could they even stand staying up so late for fun? Stannis only stayed up that late when working, and since he had long since completed his classes, he was feeling more well-rested than he had in a while.

They didn't even bother putting on the bedroom lights, or even putting on pajamas. They just moved about their master bathroom in their boxers, searching for toothbrushes and toothpaste and towels. It was a strange thought. _Their_ bathroom. Not _his_ , but _theirs_.

While Stannis brushed, Davos pissed for approximately forty seconds.

Although brushing had woken him up a bit, Stannis was drowsy enough to doze off even before he hit the pillow. Davos, on the other hand, was another story, and as tired as he was, he knew he should listen. Davos lay in the crook of his arm, the blanket covering them in a thick heap.

"I'm going to send Dev away." Davos said, his voice echoing faintly in the high-ceilinged room. "I think it'll be good for him. What do you think?"

Stannis yawned. "... He does seem very..." He picked his words carefully. "Loyal to her."

"Does it seem odd to you too?"

"Yes, it does."

"But he seems fine."

"Yes, I'm sure they've stopped burning people alive by now." Davos chuckled quietly.

"That'd be something." He was definitely drifting off. "I'm sure that's... Illegal." Silence. "Dev needs a passport..."

"I can arrange all of that during work tomorrow." Stannis murmured, realizing with horror that he wasn't quite sleepy anymore. Work would be a sure killer in the morning. "Just sleep, Dav."

The man was already snoring.

Stannis lay, staring up at an invisible ceiling for a while. Though it was the darkest time of night, it felt to Stannis like the dawn of a new time. When he looked up, the ceiling was the same one he'd seen for years upon years, and yet he couldn't help but shake the strange feeling that settled soundly in his heart.

"I don't recognize this ceiling..." He murmured softly. He must be mad.

Before closing his eyes, Stannis rolled over, planting a light kiss on Davos's cheek. Then he did it again. And again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it seems you've braved through this monster of a chapter! Congrats! I hope it was worth the wait. I almost considered breaking this up into two chapter, but decided I couldn't be bothered with that. Nah...  
> Anyway, isn't it so romantic? Abandoning all convenience for love. Now THAT'S what I call dedication.  
> I am forever grateful for all of my readers! Read this fic with your friends. With your family. With your family-friends.  
> Also shoutout to SHOUJO for the cool comments. You're golden. 
> 
> The moral of this fic is... Marry rich. ~Robb Stark


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it.

_Play with fire and you will get burned,_ she had said, _and trust me, boy, you will._

 _I know,_ he had replied almost immediately. _And I'm willing to do what it takes to properly serve our Red God._

 _There will be pain._ Those deep, dark eyes of hers had met his with the worry she neglected to show in her voice.

 _I'm ready. I want to please you, miss._ Then she had smiled.

_This isn't about me, Devan Seaworth._

_I... Know..._ That's where their conversation had ended, her warm, slender finger sweeping across his flushed cheek before she departed gracefully, her light summer robes billowing behind her like crimson clouds of smoke as she strode.

And now he stood before his mirror, inspecting his features but thinking of his journey, the trip abroad he would embark on in a mere few hours. His father was in a strange mood, distant, agitated, and yet encouraging all at once. Devan could not blame the man, however. He felt both excited and anxious about flying. This would be his first time on a plane, but despite him being nervous, the thought of soaring above the clouds and touching the heavens exhilarated him and made him almost forget his fear.

He checked his bags a fifth time, referring to the checklist on his phone before finally zipping them up. He gazed in the mirror again. Currently, the tall, skinny brunet in the plain white t-shirt and black sweatpants did not seem the stuff of acolytes. In fact, he was a newbie to the faith itself- he had not known R'hllor's might until over one year in the past, and yet Miss Melisandre made him discover a hole in his soul, the part of his that desired a higher power to believe in. So he had followed and learned to love.

He looked around his room. It had only been his  for a month but it had almost reached the level of messiness it had been back in Flea Bottom. He knew that Stannis talked about the state of the room behind his back, and Devan did not neglect the room out of spite, but out of habit. He promised himself he would clean some day. Some day.

Devan rolled his suitcase and carried his backpack down the hall and staircase, and with each step he took, the bickering grew louder. Devan sighed. What could they be arguing about, those two?

"Davos, I told you specifically _not_ to go out and do that, am I correct?" Stannis's face was at its most serious, the caliber of stern that made his sunken blue eyes brew... Though not with cold fury. In fact, he almost seemed... Worried, was it?

"You are, but I don't understand why you'd be angry at me for doing it anyway." Davos retorted, clearly irritated. "I've been saving my money for this for a long time now. I wouldn't have bought the damned thing if I knew I couldn't afford it, Stannis."

"I know, Davos, but I made it clear that I was unsure if that level of commitment was suitable for us." The fight seemed to leave him then, though his teeth were grinding so hard it seemed gruesome. Davos too dropped his eyes. Neither had noticed the boy standing just outside the kitchen’s entrance. When his father spoke again, he was quiet.

"I apologized for being careless and not hiding it well, so will you just take it? Please?" Stannis was silent. Devan couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Had Stannis found the engagement ring that his dad had kept hidden? Devan had told him not to hide it in the kitchen, but alas, the poor man's nerves had gotten the best of him, and he wasn't satisfied with his choice of hiding spot before it was too late. Now he was paying the price of haste, and for once, Devan could tell his father that he had told him so.

Davos got down on one knee, looking up at Stannis for forgiveness, for reassurance. Devan stood still, mouth agape, well aware that he was witnessing something very special.

"Stannis, will you please, _please_ do the honor of marrying me?" He held the little black box in his hand, and if his eyes weren't playing games with him, Devan thought he could see him trembling. Stannis looked down at the ring, then at Davos, then back at the ring for a few more seconds.

"How... Can I say no, Dav?" Both hesitated before embracing, followed by mild kissing, followed by a passionate and quite disturbing make-out session.

 _"God..."_ Devan muttered before loudly clearing his throat. The two jumped, separating their bodies and looking at him startled, then apologetic.

"Uh, ready to go then, Dev?" Davos asked, his head a blushing disheveled mess. Ah, young love.

"Yeah. Everything's packed." He stopped to pick his suitcase up again. "So, Dad, you asked?" Davos smiled, pulling a less-than-thrilled looking Stannis closer to him.

"I did! He said yes, but I'm sure you already... Er, _saw..."_ Stannis averted his gaze, as if embarrassed. Devan clapped.

"Congrats, you two, but I really have to get to the airport like, now."

So Stannis called Shireen down from her room and the four headed out to the bus station. The Dragonstone International Airport, small as it was, was relatively expensive to fly out of compared to the big airports like King’s Landing International or Lannisport or Sunspear. Devan couldn't help but wonder how their humble little place of worship could afford such a trip...

Miss Melisandre was waiting for them outside of the terminal, sitting daintily on her red suitcase and waiting. After greeting Devan warmly and Shireen politely, she shook Davos's hand with apparent disinterest, and Stannis's with a strange awkwardness. Devan still did not know why those two were on such strange terms, but had decided long ago that it wasn’t his business, nor would it ever be.

"The big day is finally here!" The woman announced as if making a speech. "It's time for this boy to become a man of our God." She looped her arm in his, sending chills down his spine. "They can follow us for a short while."

Devan wanted badly to bombard the woman with questions, but concluded that they'd best be saved for the 8 hour flight. As much as the boy did not want to read them, he had responsibilities, so he had packed his reading material for school as well as his old iPod. He had spent the past three days clearing out his old shit music from middle school and putting in his current gems. He had had a fun time listening to his throwbacks, so much fun, in fact, that Shireen came into his room to inquire about the noise.

"I'm just kickin' it back." He had told the girl, and she had stayed to join him.

Now Shireen stood before him looking serious as her father. She was nearing teen age, but moments like these made her look mature, almost too much so. They hugged for a moment, and when they parted, she looked sad enough to cry. 

  
“It’ll only be a few weeks,” he reassured her, feeling sad himself. “I’ll send postcards.” Then he turned to Miss Melisandre. “Will there be wifi?”  
  
“Probably not.” She replied.  
  
“Fine,” he turned back to Shireen. “I’ll definitely send postcards.”  
  
He shook hands with Stannis next, smiling sadly up at the brilliant man before him. For a moment, neither knew what to say.  
  
“Take good care of each other,” he finally got out, a small smile dancing on his lips. “And please, write to us, Dev.” Devan nearly gasped. He’d called him Dev! The boy smiled, pulling the tall man into a brief hug.  
  
“I will.” Next was his father. Never before had he seen the man cry, but at this moment, he looked damn close to tears. The two must have hugged for a full minute.  
  
“Bye, Dad,” the boy murmured, holding back his tears. He was tall, sixteen, a man, and he would not cry.   
  
“Bye, Dev. Have a safe flight.” He held on to his son’s shoulders, gazing up at him sadly. Devan found it strange, looking down at the man he’d looked up to his entire life. “Have fun, follow the rules, and please don’t come back with all your hair singed off and all that. Bald isn’t a good look for you.”   
  
“I promise.” The boy was sincere in his declaration. “And Dad, make sure that you write to me also. Your handwriting sucks.” Davos laughed.  
  
“I know,” There was a pause. Miss Melisandre called the teen over, saying that they had to make haste if they didn’t want to miss the flight. Before leaving to weigh his suitcase, he looked at the group of three again. His family. His _family_. He waved. They waved back. He turned around to follow the red woman.  
  
\--

They all sat at the back of the bus to ensure that they could all sit side-by-side. Stannis was engrossed in a fascinating High Valyrian history, taking notes on the text as he read and listening in on what Davos and Shireen were talking about. Some new TV show the two had started watching on Tuesday nights. His daughter had suggested recording the next few episodes for Devan so that he wouldn’t be left in the dark when he returned. 

  
“You know,” Davos said later while Stannis was looking up a phrase he did not know how to interpret. “I proposed to your father earlier.” Stannis picked his head up, face blank. He was actually quite surprised that the girl hadn’t noticed the ring by now.   
  
“You _did?”_ The girl asked. Loudly. Several people turned in their seats to look back at them. They were paid no mind.   
  
“I did.” Davos confirmed. “Show her the ring, Stannis.” He held his hand up and the girl grabbed it, overwhelmed with joy.  
  
“It’s so _nice!_ Why didn’t you show me earlier, Dad?” Stannis shrugged.   
  
“I wanted to wait until we got home. This is Devan’s day, not ours.”   
  
“So what?” The girl said back. “You’re _engaged_ , Dad! You can be excited about it!”

 **  
**“I actually had something better planned,” Davos said. “But he found the ring hidden in the kitchen this morning.” Shireen giggled.  
  
“He put it on top of the fridge,” Stannis grumbled.   
  
“I was nervous. I didn’t think you’d look on top of the fridge.” He shifted.   
  
“We keep the cereal up there.”  
  
“You never eat cereal, Stannis.”   
  
“... Fair enough.”  
  
“So when’s the wedding?” Shireen asked, sifting through her belongings and pulling from her bag a large book. Her father’s love for classics had passed on to her, and she was now reading a thrilling epic from some unknown Northman written thousands of years ago. Stannis was proud of her.   
  
“We haven’t had time to plan it yet.” Davos responded, mussing the girl’s dark hair. “but I promise you can help us when we do.”  
  
Shireen said nothing, but grinned brightly, opening her book and immersing herself in it almost immediately. Davos did the same, only he was reading _Hardhome_ , as Shireen had suggested he do.   
  
In five minutes, Davos was asleep. Shireen closed her eyes at eight. Then, finally, Stannis let sleep wash over him, doing nothing to fight the drowsiness that came upon him suddenly, like a black shadow.   
  
The three of them missed their stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember how much I said here last chapter but oh my God I can't believe it's OVER... These past 5.....6..... idk months have been so much fun. I recall writing in my classes, writing at lunch, writing in the car, at church, at the store, on road trips, on vacation, at 3 am while watching TV... And now it's over.  
> I'd love to give my readers a big ol swingin THANK YOU for, well, reading this! This is actually the first multichapter fic I've gotten through without abandoning. Isn't that just something... Its probably because I enjoyed writing this so much. I honestly don't know what to do. Maybe a oneshot? Who knows... Anyway........ Shhhiiiiiit it's all done now... Damn....  
> Thanks to shoujo for making this fic what it is, and also to all my readers for giving me hope... Hope that I'm not just wasting hours of my time. :D
> 
> Okay... So what do I write now...


End file.
